


Blurring the lines

by JinxApplePie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxApplePie/pseuds/JinxApplePie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up in the hospital is never good.</p><p>Waking up in the hospital and not remembering how you got there, but having two sets of memories of who you are... Now that's just creepy.</p><p>Who are you? What's real? How'd you get here?</p><p>Can the Winchesters help you discern fiction from reality, even when the lines are blurry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise and Shine

Beep beep beep

As the obnoxious tone drags you from your sleep you become increasingly aware of your surroundings. Not your bed. Not your room. Not even your house.

Trying not to panic you manage to pry your heavy eyelids open. Only to be greeted by a hospital room, but not your local hospital. Then the pain hits you. All encompassing, I've been hit by a Mac truck type pain. Not one part of you is left without a bone deep ache.

You're still trying to remain calm as you try to remember what happened. Last thing you remember was watching some TV before going to bed. Something about the memory seems fuzzy. Almost dream like or maybe you're just forgetting something.

 _No shit, Hannah! Going to bed didn't land you in the hospital!_ you scold yourself.  _Wait... Who's Hannah? My name is Y/N. Fuck._

Before your inner dialogue can continue a nurse comes in.

"Oh good! You're awake! You gave us all quite a scare, young lady!" the overly chipper petite blonde exclaimed. "I'll just take your vitals and go get the doctor."

"Where am I? How did I get here? What day is it?" the questions start coming out rapid fire before you can fully process what you're even asking.

"Calm down, darlin." the nurse says attempting to soothe you.

Abby, her name tag says Abby. _I can read, that's a plus._

"You're in Sioux Falls General Hospital." she states rather matter of fact.

_Sioux Falls... South Dakota?_

"It's Monday, the 7th." she continues.

_No. It's Thursday the 19th._

"Of December?" you cut in.

"No darlin, November." she corrects as she finishes taking your vital signs. "Everything looks good, I'll get the doctor so he can talk with you."

"November 7th?" you say aloud to yourself trying to work that one out.

You try to remember more about yourself.

Part of you says your name is Hannah Rene Mason. Another part says that's crap, your name is Y/F/N.

Part of you says you're 23 and your birthday is August 14th 1982. The other part says that's also crap, your (age) and you're birthday is (your bithday).

_Wait, 1982? That would make me 33, not 23. That first part of my brain is clearly crap._

Just as you're ready to scream in frustration the doctor walks in.

"Hello, Miss Mason. I'm Dr. Hanson, I've been over seeing your care since you arrived. What do you remember?" he says in that comforting, but authoritative way doctors tend to do.

You recount what you know. That you went to bed in your home in (city, state) on Wednesday, November 18th and then woke up here.

The doctor's face scrunches in concern as he carefully considers his response.

"Hannah," he finally starts and you cringe at the name, "You've been here in a comatose state for 3 weeks. You were found in an alley here in Sioux Falls, unconscious with no sign of injury. Your condition has been stable, but until today we were unsure you would wake up. Do you have any friends or family in Sioux Falls? Or anywhere in South Dakota?" you're shaking your head "Do you know anyone in the area we could contact?"

With a scoff and heavy sarcasm you reply "Yeah, let's call good old Bobby Singer." you laugh lightly at your own joke to call a fictional character from your favorite show, the very show you watched before climbing into bed last night. A very dead, fictional character at that.

"Abby, could you contact Mr. Singer after you notify Sheriff Mills that Miss Mason is awake." Dr. Hanson called to the nurse just outside the door.

You simply sat there on the hospital bed, completely dumb struck. _There's an actual Bobby Singer in Sioux Falls? Sheriff Mills? Really? Weird and kinda creepy. What the hell is going on? What the actual hell is going on?_

After only a few moments alone trying to collect your thoughts the sheriff walks in.

You try not to stare, but it's fucking Sheriff Jody Mills and she indeed looks exactly like Kim Rhodes. Freaking out is starting to seem like a reasonable response.

After a few basic questions aimed at finding your attacker, which you clearly couldn't help with, she handed you a bag that contained the clothing you hand been found in, a wallet and a few pieces of simple jewelry. You don't remember owning any of these items, yet some how each one seems oddly familiar.

The necklace, with its simple black cord suspending a gold pendant with an intricate tree imprinted on it and the simple silver ring that was nothing more than a wide band made your heart catch. But you couldn't be sure why. Inspecting both closer you notice engraving inside the silver band.

_Forever and Always_

Just more confusion and questions. Where there any answers on the agenda today?

After you changed into the clothes from the bag, that someone thankfully washed, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

The dark blue jeans hugged your curves well and were clearly well loved, all kinds of broken in and frayed. The hem landed neatly across the top of the dark brown cowboy boots that had clearly seen a lot of wear as well. A black Led Zepplin t-shirt that was several sizes too big and a mahogany leather jacket completed the outfit.

With one last look in the mirror and discharge papers in hand you walked out of the hospital. Sitting in front of the doors was a sight shocking enough to nearly drop you to the ground.

A beat up, rusty 1971 Chevell that you would know anywhere sat in front of you. Your eyes snapped up to the man making his way around the front of the car.

"Hannah, you have no idea how worried you've had all of us! What did you get yourself into kid?" came the gruff, but loving voice of Bobby Singer.


	2. Home Sweet, Where?

The ride back to Bobby's was quiet.

After his initial questions at the hospital, which you answered with a repeated shocked and confused "I don't know, Bobby!" He stopped asking questions. Something was clearly wrong, but you weren't talking. If Bobby knew one thing, a quiet thinking Hannah was far better than angry Hannah who wanted you to shut your trap.

Stopping his Chevell near the house, Bobby waited to see if you would speak up before getting out. You didn't. Quickly getting out to take in your surroundings: the house, the salvage yard, a candy apple green 1968 Chevell SS and Rumsfeld. It all felt familiar but surreal.

Rumsfeld trotted over to you and rubbed his head in your hand. As you crouched down to give him a rub, you realized how long it's been since you've seen him. Looking up at Bobby you ask the least awkward question you could muster "What year is it?" because clearly, it was not 2015 anymore.

"2005. You weren't gone that long kid." Bobby wasn't sure what to make of the question but at least you were talking. "Let's get you something to eat."

You nod, following Bobby into the house. Looking around at a place that you've seen 100 times, yet somehow feels new but familiar. Feeling somewhere between awkward and peaceful, you start wandering the house. Investigating every room, every book, everything you can touch and see.

When Bobby calls you to the kitchen where he's prepared each of you a sandwich, one thing sticks out in your mind. The candy apple green 1968 Chevell. You've never seen that car before. Not here, not anywhere.

"Bobby, who's '68 Chevell is that outside?" you can't help but ask about the detail that doesn't fit.

"You must have really hit your head girl. She's yours. Lady is your pride and joy." his tone is shocked that you could forget something so important to you, "I already called the boys. They're in California, but..."

The look on your face stopped Bobby. Confusion etched so deeply in your expression he knew it was time to risk the wrath of angry Hannah. "Alright, Hannah. What's going on? Doctor said you're not injured. But you... You're not yourself. Now start talking." it was all gruff and grumpy, laced with worry and concern. But he left no room for negotiation.

Biting your lip and looking around the room, you tried to figure out where to start. "Bobby, I'm freaking out. This is gonna sound 12 kinds of crazy and probably not make a lick of sense." you apparently decided to go with rambling. "I don't remember you or this house or anything. Well, I do but it wasn't real. I'm not Hannah, I'm Y/N! I live in (city, state)! This... This isn't real! What the fuck is going on? I need to call my family. I need to go home. I...I..."

Everything hit you hard. Tears started falling from your eyes as you thought of your family and your home and the life you had before you went to bed last night. It wasn't all lollipops and candy canes, but it was yours, it made sense and you were starting to fear it was gone.

Without a word Bobby stood from the table and returned with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Pouring a generous amount in both glasses, he looked you in the eye before he spoke.

"Kid, this is real. You're Hannah Mason. My niece and this is the only home you've known since you were 15." Bobby paused, letting his words sink in and carefully considering how to continue this conversation. "What did you mean, you remember but it wasn't real?"

Taking a long sip from the glass Bobby had handed you and deep breath you explained, slightly less frantically. "It... This... This is... Was... A TV show. My favorite TV show. Every detail is the same, except me. I wasn't there."

"I'm guessing it wasn't 2005 in the world you remember."

"Nope." you idly answered, popping the P, "2015. The show started in 2005 though."

"And those memories seem real to you?" Bobby asked, the skepticism dripping from his words.

"I don't know. When I first woke up, yes. Those memories were very real. But now, it's all blurry. I'm not sure what's real." Taking a glup from the glass, you study Bobby's face. He kept his face as neutral as possible, but the worry and hurt could be detected. "I don't have any real memories of here. I know facts: name, age, birthday and all the stuff from the show... But that's all in the future and it's not real. Certain things feel important to me: Rumsfeld, the car, the necklace and... And this ring. But I don't have memories. I don't know why those things matter."

By the time you finish your explanation the panic and mania have worn off. In their place you felt frustration and anger, but mostly you felt defeated.

"We'll figure it out, okay kid?" Bobby finished his whiskey and poured another.

After talking for hours, you had told Bobby everything you remembered. Mostly about the home you remembered, and the little you knew about yourself in the world where he exsisted. There were a lot of gaps, in both sides of the story. Nothing ever seemed to make complete sense and details of the life you remembered weren't exactly clear.

"You should get some sleep. Remember where your room is?" Bobby hoped you remembered at least that much. He had been pleased during the long conversation with you to discover you still sounded like you. Sass, sarcasm and wit still permeated everything you said. Little quirks and tells were still present: biting your lip on deep thought, twirling your ring when you're not telling the whole truth, holding your necklace for emotional revelations, nervously running your fingers through your hair.

You tried but came up blank, your face fell. It should be simple to remember. If this was real, why couldn't you remember something basic.

"Come on kid," he lead you up the stairs and stopped in front of one of the doors. "Night, Hannah."

"Night, Bobby."

Walking into the room you were surprised, you expected to feel awkward in a place you didn't know. But the room felt homey, familiar. Not quite how you imagined you would have decorated it, but certainly your style. Everything felt a little too familiar, but you remembered none of it.

The whole situation was starting to piss you off more than anything. If it was real why couldn't you remember? If it wasn'treal, why does it feel familiar? Obviously one version was real and one was fake, which was which?

Walking to the dresser you found a pair of black yoga pants. Changing out of your jeans and removing your bra, you sunk into a bed that was not familiar but smelled like your favorite shampoo. 

Just as you were finally calming your mind and starting to drift off to sleep, something Bobby said earlier popped into your mind. He said he called the boys. Did he mean Dean and Sam? Where they coming here? Do you know them? Now wide awake, you ponderes over so many things to ask and tell them.

At some point the whiskey wins over the frantic thinking and you slipped into a deep dreamless sleep.

**********************************************************************************************

"What do you mean we have to go? I'm not leaving, Dean! Not until..." Sam was furious. How could his brother expect him to just take off days after Jess died, with no answers.

"Bobby called. He found Hannah. We have to go. I have to go! We're not finding anything anyway, maybe Bobby can help. But, man, I really just need to see for myself that she's okay. Get in!" Dean slid into the driver seat and started the engine before his door was even closed.

Sighing Sam climbed into the car and looked at his brother. Sure, they were close to Hannah, she had been living with Bobby since her parents died and Bobby was her only living relative. She was a good friend to Sam, but Bobby could handle her, he needed to find the demon who killed Jess.

"How long was she missing? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Sam was suddenly irritated no one thought to tell him that his friend was in trouble.

"3 weeks. I was a little focused on finding her, dude. Then Dad went missing." his frustration was clear.

"What happened?" Sam wanted more answers.

"You really think I was alone for the voodoo thing in New Orleans? Things went to shit, man. We... Hannah... She just disappeared. One second she's standing next to me, then she was gone." anger seethed through Dean's vains. It was bad enough knowing he was to blame, but to tell his brother it was his fault you'd been in trouble was more than he wanted to deal with.

After mulling over the information Sam spoke up, "Why were you and Hannah working a case together?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Dean's tone made clear that the conversation was over.

As they sped away from Stanford it was clear that what should have been a full days drive was going to take only half a day, at most. Sam watched Dean push Baby harder than he had ever driven her and couldn't help but wonder what happened while he'd been in college.

"Wake me up if you want me to drive." it was almost midnight as Sam settled into the seat to get some sleep.


	3. Hello Stranger

Sunlight poured through the window in your room and danced across your face to wake you. Eyes still closed you breathed in the familiar scents around you and chuckled at the crazy dream you had. Waking up in Sioux Falls and all that, maybe watching Supernatural right before bed wasn't a great idea.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up to stretch the realization hits you. It wasn't a dream. You're not in your bed, you're in Bobby's house. Flopping back on the pillow with a groan you decide thinking before coffee really is a bad idea and make your way down stairs.

As your pouring a cup of coffee Bobby looks up from his desk in the other room where he has several books laid out to study them. "Morning Sleeping Beauty. Thought you were gonna sleep all day. How ya feelin'?"

"I'm not freaking out anymore, if that's what your asking. My entire body aches and I still don't remember a damn thing from here. Except what I know from TV." you started off light, but by the end of your overview your tone had taken on frustration and a hint of anger. Sitting down in a chair near Bobby's desk and sipping from the mug in your hands, you continued "What do I do?"

"I'm looking up everything I've got on anything that alter memories, but honestly kid, I'm not coming up with much. You, you should get a shower. You smell like a hospital and the boys called, they'll be here soon." he didn't even look up from the text he was skimming as he spoke.

"The boys?" The question came out as more of a confused statement.

"Sam and Dean." was the matter of fact reply you got.

Coffee in hand you made your way back to your room to collect clothes. Another pair of well worn jeans, a black ribbed tank and a red and navy button up made up the outfit you selected for the day. There wasn't much to pick from in your wardrobe.

Once in the bathroom you took your time. Mostly to pass the time when you were entirely unsure what to do with yourself, but also for time alone to think. Your favorite shampoo, conditioner and body wash were there and you savored the comfort of their familiarity.

The shower had always been where all your best ideas came from. Today was apparently not your lucky day. Nothing clicked, in fact details of home were starting to slip. You still remembered home, but when you tried to picture the family and friends left behind, something was felt off. 

Eventually you had to face the end of the hot water and stepped out to dry off and dress. Then you slowly combed and dried your hair, put on your boots and fiddled with the empty jewelry box and a black box holding several throwing knives that sat atop your dresser.

A sound caught your attention, you would know that rumble anywhere. Looking out the window you saw it, a black 1967 Chevy Impala. Not just any Impala, Dean Winchester's Impala.

_Holy crap. They're really here. Alright, Y/N, pull it together. No fangirling in front of the real deal._

Hearing the Impala doors slam, you decided it was best to make your way down stairs. When you reached the top of the stairs you could hear voices and stopped to listen.

"Where is she, Bobby?" that was definately Dean, you would know that voice anywhere.

"Calm down boy. She's fine, well... Anyway, you need to know before you two see her."

"What? Know what? Bobby what's going on?" Dean's voice rose with each question.

With a cautious look over his shoulder, Bobby began to explain "There's no easy way to put it, she doesn't remember anything. Not the last case, not any of us, not ever her car."

"How is that even possible?" Sam asked the obvious question.

"Nothing? She doesn't remember a thing? Not even Lady? Not... Me?" Dean's tone shifted from surprise to pained as his questions continued.

"Just calm down, Dean. I'm sure she'll be fine, her memories will come back. She'll be the same Hannah we always knew." Sam tried to calm his brother.

You finally gathered the nerve to make your way down the stairs and make your presence known. "Hi." it came out shy and unfamiliar on your tongue. Turning your gaze up to the brothers, you began to really look over each of them.

 _Shit. Nothing could prepare me for how tall Sam is. Seriously, I'm like a damn oompa loompa! Freakishly tall, that's what he is. Adorable, too._ Turning your eyes to Dean, your breath caught in throat.  _Fuck. How is it even possible that he looks even better in person? All those freckles and, wow, that green can't be real. Crap, don't stare like a creeper!_

Dean let his gaze drift from your eyes down to the tip of you boots and back up to your eyes before he spoke, "You're really okay?" you tipped your head a bit to the side and raised an eyebrow, "Okay, stupid question, you're not physically hurt though, right?" you shook your head, you still not sure if you could trust your voice.

Quickly and a bit roughly, Dean pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you before resting his lips on top of you head. Without time to react you ended up with your hands pinned to Dean's chest, where you could feel his heart race, firm muscle and  _Dear God, keep it together._

Bobby couldn't tell who was more surprised, Hannah or Sam. "Let's all sit down and start sortin this out." he said while pouring drinks for everyone at the kitchen table.

"It's only 11, Bobby, bit early for whiskey don't ya think?" Sam took a seat and pushed the glass away from him.

"Suit yourself, but he's gonna need it." Bobby gestured to Dean as he sat down.

You and Dean were already seated, had both taken a gulp and were focusing on the burn it left behind unsure what to say.

"Bobby says you don't remember anything." Dean had to hear it for himself.

"Sort of. I know my entire life, but it's not this life, it's a different life." your elbows were on the table and your fingers were buried deep in your hair, "A-And... And this was a TV show. You guys, Bobby, demons, ghosts. It isn't... Wasn't real."

"Son of a bitch." with the slam of his glass, Dean was pouring a refill.

"Somethings seem familiar, but I don't know why. None of you feel like strangers, but maybe that's because I've been watching y'all for 10 years. Okay, that sounds creepy. Anyway... I don't know what's real, what's not, what happened and I don't know what to do." with a sigh you turned to Bobby, "My old memories are getting blurry too. They're still there but the details aren't clear."

Awkward silence filled the room. Bobby deep in thought, Dean looking like he was kicked in the gut, Sam rolling all the information around and you just waiting for one of them to have a plan.

Sam finally broke the silence, "Ten years? So like our teenage years? That's weird."

"Umm, not exactly. The next ten years. I was in 2015. The show started with Dean going to get Sam at Stanford. The Woman in White case in Jericho and looking for John and... and..." looking up from your glass to meet Sam's eyes the words die in your mouth.

Dean's eyes were wide with surprise. Sam's eyes held just as much shock but also sorrow.

"Jess." it left Sam's mouth like the saddest whisper and you knew it was all true.

_Holy fuck. What's going on? Why am I here? Can I change things?_

"I need another drink." Dean refilled all the glasses and everyone sat quietly lost in their own thoughts.


	4. Hell, No!

After hours of conversation, reviewing every fact of what's already history to them you could recall: Jess, the woman in White, Mary, the striga, Bobby's past, Cassie, the Christmas Sam gave Dean the amulet, anything you could think of, one thing was very clear. The show was accurate. 100% accurate. If the past was accurate, then you knew where things were headed.

Your mind raced. The darkness, demon Dean, the Gadreel mess, purgatory, Bobby's death, Charlie and Kevin, Leviathans, Lisa and Ben, Ellen and Jo, soulless Sam, Cas, the apocalypse, the demon blood, dickhead angles, Ruby, Azazel, Alistair, hell.

Hell. Dean was going to Hell for his baby brother.

Without a word you jumped up from the table and almost ran outside. Fists planted on the hood of your car, breathing deep you tried to stop crying. When you heard the door and soft foot steps headed your way you hung your head to hide your tears.

"Hannah," Dean started gently.

"Not now Dean!" your response was snappy, you could hardly contain your emotions. Fictional characters, sure, but you'd still become emotionally attatched to them. The idea of changing the future to one even slightly less painful for these people you had grown to love overwhelmed you.

Dean's retreating foot steps barely registered and the look on his face was entirely missed as you stared at the candy apple green hood before you. A look so broken tears would have filled your eyes to know you caused it.

Slumping face first on the cool metal, Bobby's voice reached your ears and you startled.  _Never even heard him coming, some hunter I'd be!_

"Take it easy on Dean, he's worried about you. Been blamin himself since you went missing."

"He always blames himself. For everything."

"True. This isn't easy on any of us, Hannah, you've got to try to stay calm, kid."

"You know what? No!" You snapped, your voice came out loud and harsh, "I'm not Hannah! I'm Y/N! And goody for me, I know what's gonna happen! Want to know how you die? How Sam dies? Or Dean? And how many times y'all die? The friends you lose? The apocalypse? Angels? Dragons, they're fucking real, Bobby! Open the gates of Hell? Leviathans? There is so much Bobby, so much and I want to fix it! I don't... I can't watch... I can't let Dean go to Hell!" by now tears are freely flowing down your face again, "I won't do it, Bobby. I... I can't. I know it's stupid, he was a character on a TV show, but damn it, I still fell for him and I can't let him go through Hell again, literal Hell. Plus, that breaks the first seal, so ya know, apocalypse averted. Or at least delayed."

 Bobby just listened as you continued to rant and ramble, pouring out everything you had locked inside.

"And my family, I can barely remember them. It's been 24 hours and I already can't remember their faces! I'm probably never going to see them again and why? Why was my life taken away? Why am I here? Why does everyone know me, have memories of me and I've got nothin? It's bullshit!" tears had stopped, anger had rolled through and now you were a bit more sedate, "What do I do, Bobby?"

"Hell if I know what you should do, Y/N. I do know what Hannah would do. She would take everything she knew, save as many people as she could, stop as much shit as possible and kill every evil thing that crossed her path. So, maybe you're not Hannah, but you sure as Hell seem a lot like her."

You looked up in time to see Dean getting in the Impala and pulling out without a word. One look at him and you knew, "You're right Bobby." with that you both went back into the house.

"Dean went to get burgers. Said he'd be back in an hour or so." Sam explained as you walked through the door.

As you started rummaging through the cupboards you called over your shoulder, "Sam, call Dean. Have him pick up everything we need to summon a demon. Bobby, call John. Daniel Elkins in Manning Colorado has the Colt. Tell him to get his ass here with it immediately. We've got work to do." as you spoke, you had collected all the ingredients you needed.

Both men looked at you for a moment before agreeing and starting on their assigned calls. Neither dared to ask what you were working on, the sudden change of attitude was enough to take in at the moment.

**********************************************************************************************

An hour and a half later Dean walked through the door. Bags in both hands. "Okay, what's with the shopping spree? And what's that smell?"

Turning from the oven you answered, "That smell is a peace offering, of the apple pecan variety." you held the pie up for inspection before setting it on the stove top to cool. "The shopping spree, well, Azazel's gonna die a little earlier than planned."

Dean stood in shock. Eyes flicking from you to the pie repeatedly.

"Azazel?" Sam spoke to you for the first time since you told him to make the call.

"Ol' yellow eyes, Sammy. That fucker is priority number one." the deadly look in your eyes as you unpacked the burgers and fries reminded them all of the Hannah they knew so well, "Where's the..." Before you finished asking Dean held out the paper wrapper filled with greasy onion rings. "You're amazing, Winchester!"

Dean smiled at the delight in your voice. For a moment he could almost pretend you hadn't forgotten everything, forgotten him and the last 3 years.

As everyone ate you explained about the Colt, Azazel's plan, your plan and answered the questions that came up along the way. The questions got painful. Does he get the gates open? Only if we don't stop him. How many 'special kids' are out there? Dunno really. Why did he kill Mary but not all the other mothers? She interrupted him. Interrupted what? Him feeding Sam his blood, demon blood.

Everyone cringed at that. You thankfully had avoided talking about Sam's death and Dean's deal. Neither were topics you were ready to tackle. But the next question blind sided you.

"Why me? Why did he choose me?" Sam wanted answers and he knew you had them.

With a sigh you served the pie while trying to decide how to start and how much to tell. Just the deal or the Campbell family hunting legacy. Even if you tried to just tell them about the deal Mary made, they would have more questions. More and more information would fall out like a line of dominos. Pie wasn't strong enough. Grabbing the whiskey and glasses, you poured a round and dove in.

"In 1973, Mary made a deal. With Azazel. Not for her soul, but for permission. She didn't ask what the permission was for, but it was permission to enter the house and... Well, yeah, make you part of his plan, Sam."

"Why? What was so important that Mom would make a deal with a damn demon?" Dean was angry, you knew he would be. In the wrong mood, he could take your words as placing blame on Mary, but in truth, it was a series of unfortunate events, everyone making the best choice they could. The Winchester legacy summed up.

"John. He... He had been stabbed, bleed to death right in front of her. The love of her life. A demon offers to give that back and she didn't think twice. I don't blame her, I'd make the same choice for someone I love." you hadn't even noticed when you began twirling the ring on your finger. "Which... Actually... I have a question. My ring? It's engraved. And..."

Bobby and Dean had shifted in their seats just slightly, but Sam looked equally curious about the silver band on your hand. You took it off and set it on the table, shooting Bobby and Dean questioning looks. They had the answers you wanted, by God you were going to get them.

Dean dished himself a fourth slice of pie and avoided looking at you but kept glancing at the ring sitting in the middle of the table.

Sam picked up the ring, inspected it and placed it back on the table while giving you a shrug and a half smile.

Bobby glanced between the ring, you, Dean and the pie he inhaled. Finally letting out a loud sigh, frustrated the information wasn't being offered up.

Finishing his pie, Dean snapped, "Just put the damn ring back on. Clearly, we've got bigger things to handle right now than curiosity over something that means nothing to you."

Sam followed as you walked away, shoulders sagging. At the base of the stairs, he gave you a hug and a pat on the shoulder before turning away.

"Thanks Sammy." climbing the stairs you realized the ache you had felt since the hospital wasn't as bad. Dropping into bed, sleep claimed you quickly.

**********************************************************************************************

"Idjit."

"I'm not telling her Bobby. What's the point? If she doesn't remember, then it doesn't mean anything! At least this way she can end up with someone better. Or go back to that other life, she was safe there!" stubbornness seeped through Dean's tone and he flipped the ring in his fingers. You hadn't bothered to put it back on.

"Let her hear you say that, she'll read you the riot act and smack you into next week!" Bobby wasn't surprised, but certainly irritated.

"Wait. You and Hannah?" Sam caught just enough to put the pieces together as he came back into the kitchen. "And you never told me?"

"You were gonna ask Jess to marry you and I had to find out from Hannah... Or Y/N... Whatever we're supposed to call her." Dean poured another glass of hunters helper, "And yeah, my Hannah would kick my ass for saying that because she... That Hannah... It's not the same, she doesn't... What the hell kinda chick flick did I just end up in?" he walked to the desk and started flipping through Bobby's notes about mind alteration and parallel universes, mumbling mostly to himself "I just want my Hannah back."

Grabbing a book, Sam settled into a chair near Dean, "Then let's figure this out, man."


	5. Waiting on a Winchester

No one slept well that night. All three men stayed up late, researching and chasing any lead they could find. Everyone turned up empty. You fell asleep quickly, but woke up frequently with thoughts racing that made it hard to fall back to sleep.

Finally giving up on the idea of sleep, you changed into clean clothes and headed down stairs to find coffee. It was only 4am, but why waste time trying to convince yourself to sleep. You had several things to accomplish today, might not have slept much but you did figure out things that you needed to get done and could get started on while waiting for John to arrive with the Colt.

Sipping your coffee and looking out the window, you mentally ran through your priorities for the day.  _Antipossession tattoos, track down Chuck Shurley, find out how to summon an angel, learn more about Hannah._

Deep in thought, you didn't notice Sam until he was seated across the table from you with a bowl of cereal.

"Sleep well?"

"Not really, Sammy." frowning you continued, "Is it okay that I call you Sammy? Just felt right, but if it bothers you, I won't."

"You always did before. Would almost be weird if you didn't now. You are... were... one of my best friends, like a little sister."

"I'm older than you."

"You're still littler."

"Who isn't Samsquatch?" a small chuckle escaped as you continued to sip your coffee.

"Okay, half-pint. Two can play that game." noticing you twirling the pendant of your necklace between your fingers, "You remember where you got that?"

You shot him a bitch face to rival the best he's ever pulled, "Really? Have I remembered anything beyond my name, age and birthday yet? Use that big melon, unless the airs too thin up there to think clearly."

Smiling, a real Sammy Winchester smile, he began to explain, "The first summer after you moved in, Dad dropped me off here while him and Dean worked a few cases. We spent a lot of time hanging out, Bobby even gave me the 'keep your hands off my neice' speech." he chuckled at the memory, "So, one day we went into town and there was this street fair. We spent all day looking at the art booths, listening to the crappy bands, eating fair food,"

An image, almost like a video clip, popped into your mind, "Every time I got food, I'd say how jealous Dean would be of our awesome, fried, greasy feast."

"Yeah, yeah you did. You remember?"

"Yes! Just that little bit, but I do, I remember! Now the necklace, Sammy, tell me, PLEASE!"

"It was getting late and we were getting ready to head back here. But you said we couldn't leave without buying something. There was this booth full of books we started looking through. You found a Chronicles of Narnia box set, it had a ribbon book mark with that pendant on it."

"And you... You turned it into a necklace when it broke off the ribbon. Said it would be a reminder of a great day spent with my best friend, to remember you're always there for me when I need you." eyebrows scrunched together, you recounted what was a new memory for you but it felt old and familiar. One of those things you look back on fondly. Sam's smile could have split his face in two.

"Whatcha smilin about Sammy, it's barely 5." Dean grumbled as he poured himself some coffee.

"Progress." noticing Dean's raised eyebrow, Sam elaborated, "I was telling Hannah about the street fair and her necklace, she remembered a few parts of the story on her own."

"Remember anything else, apple pie?"

"No. You've called me that before. I don't remember hearing it, but I know you have." _grasping at straws woman, that's what your doing_ , but Dean wanted you to remember and damn it, you wanted to remember him.

"That's something." Bobby chimmed in, practically appearing from no where. Maybe you were too busy studying Dean to notice him walk in. "What about your memories from the other life?"

"They're there. Details aren't clear and they feel more like I watched them, than participated in them." taking a deep breath you plunged into your plans for the day, "So, the Colt won't be here until tomorrow at the earliest. There's a few other things we can handle while we wait for it."

"Like what?" the three men around you asked in almost perfect synchronisation.

"I need to track down a man named Chuck Shurley. I'd like to know more about Hannah, about me, if talking is going to bring up memories of here. Anyone know how to summon an angel?"

"Angels aren't real, sweetheart." Dean's tone was patronising.

"Don't sweetheart me, Winchester. Angels are real, very real. Most are giant asshats, a few are decent and one even becomes your bestest buddy in the whole wide cosmos. Oh, and we need to take a field trip to a tattoo parlor."

"Tattoo? Hannah?" Bobby sounded every bit the concerned guardian.

"Antipossession tattoos. Before Sammy here disappears for a week with a girl riding around inside him."

Sam grimaced and Dean smirked, "Kinky, Sammy."

Rolling your eyes you turned to Bobby, "See what you can find on summoning an angel while we get inked, pretty please." flashing him a smile, you dashed up the stairs to grab your coat.

"More and more like our Hannah every day. Good to see her coming back to herself." Bobby watched as you climbed the stairs.

**********************************************************************************************

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"Quit bitching, Dean."  _skip the tat, get possessed, I'll stab your ass with Ruby's knife and hopefully Cas will still bring you back._

His pissy attitude was grating on your nerves. He was only directing it at you, but wouldn't give you a clue what you had done.

"That was fun." Sam walked out from behind the partition, sass dripping off his words.

As Dean followed the tattoo artist back to get started, you turned to Sam, "Take you boys to a tattoo parlor and you go from tough hunters to whiny babies." after a long stretch of comfortable silence you spoke again, "Why is he mad at me?"

He weighed his words carefully before opening his mouth, "You two were close and now you don't remember him."

"He doesn't let many people get that close and he doesn't handle emotional crap well." you cut Sam off and cut to the chase, "I might not have memories, Sammy, but I know you two almost as well as you know each other."

"Right." he let out a small laugh, "He'll come around."

"Let's hope. Unless there's a way to send me home, I've got 10 years of saving your asses. I can't handle hostle, grumpy Dean for 10 years, not when it's aimed at me."

A tight smile and quick side hug was the only comfort Sam could offer. "You still want to go back?"

"I don't know, Sammy."

"You're up, apple pie."  _At least he still calls me apple pie. If he hated me, he wouldn't do that right?_

"See you boys soon." you smiled heading behind the partition Dean had just emerged from.

 The ride back was quiet until Dean's curiosity got the best of him. "Where'd you get your tattoo, Hannah... Y/N... Whatever."

 _Maybe that's why he keeps calling me apple pie, he doesn't know what name to use._ "Not tellin you." Sam turned slightly in his seat and smirked, "Not tellin you either, Sammy!"

Thankfully it was a short ride back to Bobby's, because both brothers questioned you relentlessly about your chosen location. You were steadfast, revealing nothing.

"Come on, just tell us." Sam tried again as you walked into the kitchen. With a look Bobby asked what was going on, "She won't tell us where her tattoo is."

"When's she ever offered up information?" Bobby knew you were stubborn and wouldn't tell just to bug the boys, but a little voice in his head spoke with suspicion.

"Maybe she chickened out!" Dean teased. At least it was a friendly tone.

Before you could reply, water splashed across your face. Looking at Bobby as you wiped your hand over your face, "Holy water? Really Bobby?"

"Just checkin." he shrugged.

"A bit late for that. Would you like to grab a silver knife while we're at it?" you noticed Dean moving out the corner of your eye, "Oh Christ, fine. Here." you held your arm out and Dean slid the knife over your forearm. "Happy?"

"Sorry, apple pie." his words were soft and there was a look in his eye, almost like regret or guilt maybe.

"Fine." you pushed the waist band of your jeans down a bit to show the covering placed over the fresh ink, "Inside my hip bone. Everyone convinced I'm inked and human?"

Bobby looked a bit uncomfortable with the location of your tattoo and muttered an apology as he left the room.

Amusement shone on Sam's face at the entire display before him.

The smirk and glint in Dean's eyes took you by surprise, he was giving you whiplash. "Nice!" his eyebrows raised with his declaration before he licked his lips. Snapping out of whatever thought he was lost in, he cleared his throat, "Why do you want to summon an angel? Thought you said they're dicks?"

"Most are, but the few I'd trust could be helpful. If they're willing. They can read my mind, tell me what's real and how this all happened."

"Wait. You're not seriously gonna ask some douchebag angel to poke around inside your head?"

 _Great Dean's mad at me. Again._ "Got a better idea. I'm all ears." 

"Let's just figure out if we can summon one before we decide." Oh, Sammy, the voice of reason.

"I'm gonna work on the car." Dean stomped out of the house and slammed the door.

"Lovely." 

**********************************************************************************************

Putting the final touches on the lunch you prepared for everyone, you found yourself humming Metallica's Nothing Else Matters. It had been stuck in your head all day.

"Lunch break fellas!" you called as you turned from the table and bumped solidly in to Dean's chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "just... Nevermind. Thanks for lunch."

Everyone gathered around the table and dug into the meal you had prepared. After several minutes of blissful quiet Bobby spoke up, "Can't find much on summoning angels. Sorry, kid."

"I guess I should have tried praying anyway, but that's a real crap shoot."

"Who's the guy you want to find?" Dean made a face at his brother's question.

"Chuck Shurley. He's an author, writes under the name Carver Edlund. Really, he's at least a prophet or possibly God, jury's still out on that one. I tend to lean toward the God theory. Anyway, his book series, _Supernatural,_ it's this universe's version of the TV show I watched in the other universe. If he knows me, if I'm in his books, but they haven't been published yet... Maybe it's one way to figure out what's real."

"Books? About us?" Dean wasn't happy. Shocker.

 "I'll see what I can find after lunch." Sam offered and you gave him a smile.

"I'm running into town for awhile." Bobby said as he got up from the table, placing his dishes in the sink before heading out the door.

The rest of the meal was silent. Not wanting to deal the tension longer, Sam excused himself to go start tracking down Chuck Shurley.

"So, what are you gonna do?" you tried to sound casual, but you weren't sure about talking to the elder Winchester without Sammy as a buffer.

"Got a headlight to replace, few other things to check out."

"Mind if I join you?" you just wanted to talk to him, watching him work on his baby was perk.

"Fine." he cleared both your plates from the table before he headed toward the door, "You comin?"

Jumping up you followed him out the door to the Impala. You'd already seen her and rode to town in her, but you hadn't yet taken the time to appreciate her. Gliding your hand from the trunk, over the roof and across the hood, "She's a beauty. Best 67 Chevy Impala to ever let her rubber hit the highway."

"Sure is." the pride in his tone brought a smile to your face. "You been remembering anything else or just Sammy."

"Just the street fair so far. It was like talking about it unearthed the memories somehow."

"Can you hand me that screw driver?" he gestured to the tool box by your foot from his spot crouched in front of the Impala's busted head light.

Handing it to him, you smiled. "We used to do this. A lot. Work on Baby together, or Lady." you smiled as images of you and Dean under the hood of both cars flashed through your mind, "You taught me almost everything about fixing cars. Spent hours making sure I knew exactly what I was doing." the words came out soft and slow, "I really enjoyed it. Partly because it was fun and good to know, mostly because I had a real good reason to spend time with you."

Dean had stopped working and was staring at you. "You... You remember that?"

"I do now. It just sort of came to me, being out here with you and all. Wish I could remember more."

Turning back to his work he started telling you about the first time he showed you how to change the oil, first time he talked you through a tune up and the first time you figured out what was wrong with Lady before he did. Every memory came back to you in blazing clarity, even parts he left out: the butterflies in your stomach, the way he looked at you, the way your hands brushed together as you worked. Damn, no matter what universe you were in, you fell for Dean Winchester. Go figure.

When he was done working you both headed inside. Dean hugged you briefly before he headed to the shower. You tried not to hope that the hug had meaning behind it and headed to your room. Sitting down on the foot of the bed, you took a deep breath.  _Here goes nothing._

"Castiel, Gabriel, if either of you are listening, I need some help. Need to talk, need answers. I know it's asking a lot, but if one of you could get your feathery ass down here, that would be sweet." silence filled the room, no fluttering wings, no swish of a trench coat, no sassy remark. _Crap, Cas doesn't have a vessel yet. Shit._ "Okay, Gabriel, hate to say it, but I think you're my only hope. Please man, don't be a dick."

Still nothing. You flopped back on the bed to think about more things to handle as the days passed, what was to come, if you wanted to stay or go home. None of this was easy. Both sets of memories, what you had of them at least, seemed real.

**********************************************************************************************

It was late when Bobby returned with pizza for dinner. Everyone sat down to eat and continued to relay memories to you.

So much came back to you, it was overwhelming. How your parents died in a house fire, an entirely not supernatural house fire. Bobby took you in, his wife Karen was your mother's sister and the only family you had left. He had been great, making you feel safe and loved and trained you to protect yourself from the things you had never known existed.

Sam was your best friend. Like a brother to you. You trusted him with not only your life, but your secrets. Always a shoulder to lean on and ear to listen. You even remembered, without the story being told, the time you went on a date and he kissed you. Both of you decided that was weird and should never be mentioned again.

Harder to figure out was how Dean fit. You were obviously close, spent a lot of time together. He shared several memories with you, but there wasn't the same depth of feeling and remembrance as Sam and Bobby's stories. Something he was hiding that you couldn't quite figure out. You knew how you felt, you loved him. Maybe you had dated, but broke up? Maybe he never felt the same? Too many questions.

"Sammy, did you find anything on Chuck?"

"No published books, yet. No phone number, but I got an address."

"Sweet, you're the best Sammy!"

Heading off to bed you thanked each of them for sharing the memories, their patience and their help. Giving each a hug and kiss on the check, you went to your room and for the first time since waking up in the hospital you sleep well.


	6. Best Laid Plans

John Winchester. Not your favorite man, though you were unsure exactly why. Ideas and theories, sure but facts were sparse.

His truck finally pulled into the salvage yard a little past noon. Bobby didn't say much to him.  _Right, last time John was here, Bobby threatened to shoot him full of buck shot._ Dean and Sam's reunion with their father played out much the way it had on the show, just no blood and no daevas. John wouldn't even look at you.  _Goody papa Winchester doesn't like me. Feelings mutual jackass!_

While John and Dean ate you, Sam and Bobby were out in the yard. A space had been cleared, everything needed for the summoning was ready to go and a devil's trap was spray painted on the ground.

"What's your special plan, Princess?"

 _Deep breath. Don't punch him, no time for this shit. Bigger problems to deal with than John Winchester._ "It's Hannah, not Princess."  _Maybe that's not an important detail right now, but he's getting under my skin!_

"Alright, alright." Dean stepped up behind you, hand on your lower back, "Don't start this shit now." his eyes were locked on John as he spoke, as he turned to face you he continued, "Apple pie, explain our plan."

_Damn it, I can not figure you out Dean. What's the deal?_

"We summon Azazel, he'll be stuck in the devil's trap, powerless and then one of you pulls the damn trigger to end his ass. Simple enough for even the slowest here to follow." you glared at John as you added the last bit, sure, he's not stupid, not even close but taking any chance at a dig felt right.

"Enough, both of ya!" Bobby was in no mood for this shit.

**********************************************************************************************

3 hours later

Things didn't quite go to plan, let's face it, you should have seen that coming. You're working with Winchesters. No matter how sound the plan, things almost always get a bit wonky along the way.

No one was really sure where things turned south, but things did. Bobby was knocked unconscious, John had a black eye and sprained ankle, Sam dislocated his shoulder, one side of Dean's face was split, swollen and more shades of purple and blue than you could imagine and from the way he moved ribs were at least bruised. Then there was you, how Azazel got his hands on you was unclear but the blood coming from the gash just below your ribs was obvious.

In the end, no one cared to argue semantics of how everyone ended up injured. Dean popped Sam's shoulder into place while Bobby and John tended to their own injuries and you held a rag over the cut to stop the bleeding. No one cared, because Azazel was dead. Things had gone to shit but Sam had still managed to get off a fatal shot. Injuries or not, it was a win. A win far greater than any of these four men could understand.

"Let me take a look." Dean was squatting in front of you waiting for permission to asses your wound.

With your nod of approval, Dean took the rag and lifted your shirt just enough to see the extent of the damage. "Fuck. You're gonna need stitches, apple pie. I'm sorry, I should have,"

"Dean Winchester, don't you dare. This isn't on you. I made a choice to be part of this fight. And I'd do it again. Knowing what was stopped, it's worth it." you knew he wasn't going to feel less guilt, he never did, but you had to say it anyway.

Carefully lifting you bridal style from your chair, Dean carried you up the stairs and set you on the bathroom counter. Fishing out the first aid kit, he began to clean your side. "I just... Seeing him hurt you... I thought..." With a heavy sigh his hands stopped working and rested on your side, "I already lost you once."

He quickly resumed his work and got the area cleaned and prepped for stitches. You watched as he worked. The careful way he placed each stitch, the focus in his eyes, the way he noticed every flinch and twing trying to make you as comfortable as can be for stitches while sitting on a bathroom counter. 

Nothing more was said as he stitched you up, but once he was done you broke the silence, "You've stitched me up before. I remember. My arm, my leg, my back, hell, almost the exact spot you just stitched. Every time you're meticulous, gentle and... And almost affectionate. I remember it all. Each time it made me feel safe, feel cared for, feel..." you trailed off, you didn't want to use that word, but how else were you going to explain it.

"Never could say it, neither of us. Still can't apparently." he let out a soft, sad chuckle.

Your brow crinkled, at first with confusion and then with pain. Memories flooded in at rapid pace. Laughing, smiling, tickle fights, first date, laying out on the Impala, kisses, fights, waking up wrapped in the warmth of his arms.

"Hannah! You okay, apple pie?" hints of panic seeped through his words.

"I... I remember... A lot... I remember you. I remember us." everything came out stuttered and choppy, your head still hurt and it was a lot to take in and just WOW.

"Serious?" that one word held so much hope, it even shone in his eyes.

Words failed you, but instinct, action and desire didn't. You pulled Dean in for a soft, slow kiss. Barely parting with foreheads pressed together, you giggled softly, "Forever and always."

"Forever and always, apple pie." he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. "Bout damn time."

Dean helped you change into a tank top and sweats, oddly stitches in your side made dressing rather difficult. He tucked you into bed and kissed you again before he turned to leave the room.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, apple pie?"

"Stay?"

"What the lady wants, the lady gets." he smirked.

"No funny business, Winchester. Just, stay."

"Like I said, what the lady wants." after removing his jeans and button up he slid under the covers with you. Both of you shifting until you were comfortable, him on his back, one arm wrapped under you resting on your hip and you on your side, moulding your body along his side, with your head on his chest, ear pressed to listen to his heartbeat, a leg over one of his. Each of you had one hand free and laced your fingers together.

You were both quiet for a long time. "How much do you remember?" clearly he wanted to know something specific.

"I don't know. A lot, but I'm not sure how much is missing. I remember our first date." you smiled.

"You kicked ass at that archery competition." he smiled at the memory.

"Yeah, I did. Then Bobby almost kicked your ass. You got me home two hours past curfew because of a flat tire. Sure we weren't going to be on time anyway, but not that late."

"Kick my ass? He was on the porch with a shot gun!"

"It was only rock salt." Both of you started to laugh, "The case in Austin, all the tiny people in the dollhouse."

"Damn witches."

"Yeah, but after. When you parked the Impala in that field outside town. We laid back on the hood and watched the stars for hours, just talking." your smile was growing.

"Damn good night that was."

 

**Flashback**

August 13th, 2003

"This is one of my favorite things to do. Just lay here, stars above me, it's peaceful."

Dean turned his head to look at you. Laying back on the windshield of the Impala, moonlight illuminating your face. "Closest thing to normal we're ever gonna get in this life."

"Yeah, probably." a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, "You ever think about what it would be like?"

"What would be like?"

"A normal life. House, regular job, starting a family." you finally turned to meet his gaze.

"The apple pie life? Sometimes," his eyes shifted back to the stars above you, "but I figure what we've got here," his fingers laced with yours, "it's as close as I'll ever get. Wouldn't want it any other way really."

"Really? Wouldn't change anything?"

"Nope. I've got my car, my girl. All is right with the world. You're my apple pie life, Hannah." the smile on his face as he looked into your eyes was breath taking.

"Smooth, Winchester."

"It was, wasn't it?" after a few moments staring into each other's eyes he spoke up again, "I mean it though. Apple pie, ya know, I, um... I mean... Uhh, I..."

"Me too, Dean. Always have." you knew how he felt, he didn't need to say the words.

"Forever and always." he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Moving to straddle his lap and leaning in for another kiss, you stopped short, "Yeah, forever and always." this kiss was more than any other you two had shared, it held all the feelings and unspoken words. Each of you pouring everything you didn't say into the other.

***end Flashback***

 


	7. Waiting on wings

Walking into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you stopped to smile at the sight before you. Dean was standing at the stove, making scrambled eggs and the smell of bacon filled the room.

"I know you're there, apple pie." he quipped.

"Can't sneak up on the mighty Dean Winchester." you teased as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

"Not in my kitchen. Hell, not in my house." Bobby's voice broke through the peaceful bliss.

Pulling away from Dean and grabbing plates you remembered something, "Where'd my ring go?" Dean pulled it out of his pocket and placed it in your hand. "Thanks, babe." you slid the ring back on wishing you could remember him giving it to you the first time.

Sitting down to eat, everyone was silent until Sam finally asked the question each man wanted to ask, "So, we killed Azazel. Hannah, what was going to happen? What did we... I mean."

"A lot." you broke in, you knew what they all wanted to hear, "Stopped his plan to open the Devil's Gate, releasing an army of demons upon the earth. Two demon deals. Saved a lot of lives. Not just innocent people, but all three of you." you gestured to the Winchester men before you as silence settled in around the table while that information was absorbed.

"Azazel was going to kill all of us?" John asked, first time he had spoken to you without hostility.

"Not directly."

"Then how?" Dean wasn't going to let you off easy, "And what demon deals?"

With a heavy sigh you began, "First he possessed John. Should really get an antipossession tattoo. He almost killed Dean before he smoked out." leaving out some of the finer details seemed like a good idea, "Sam was driving you all to the hospital when one of Azazel's minions slammed a semi into the Impala. Dean died in the hospital."

"Everything I've done and I'm taken out by a car wreck? Really, my car?"

"That's when the first deal was made, with Azazel himself. John made a deal to trade places with Dean. Life for a life right there." The two men looked at each other, Dean more than a little surprised and John with a knowing look, he'd have done it in a moment for either of his boys, "Then when Azazel's plan is in full swing, it was a fight to the death between all the 'special children'. Sammy and Jake were the final two. After Jake attacked, Sam took him down. He wasn't dead though and stabbed Sam in the back."

"Stabbed. I was going to be stabbed. Okay." Sam waited for you to continue.

"Second deal?" Dean asked like he knew the answer.

"You idjits." Bobby was catching on.

"Yup, Dean made a crossroad deal. Sam's life for his soul." you confirmed. "But, he didn't get ten years. Just one year before the hellhounds came to collect and drag Dean to hell."

"Son of a bitch. Looks like Bobby's the only one who was gonna make it out alive." Dean tried to lighten the mood.

"We stopped the apocalypse too. At least until they figure out a new plan to break the first seal."

"First seal? Apocalypse?" John wanted to know more.

"Another time. Right now Dean and Sam need to head to Blackwater Ridge. It's a wendigo, get that handled before it gets anymore people."

"A wendigo? In Colorado?" skepticism etched Bobby's words.

"Wait, your not coming, apple pie?"

"I'm not sure I could help, think I'm a bit out of practice. Since, ya know, I don't remember... I don't even remember how to hold a gun! Besides, I've still got some stuff to take care of."

"Fine. Leaving in 10, Sammy." the door slammed behind him and Sam got up to get their duffles.

Bobby started washing dishes while you and John still sat at the table. "Why do I hate you?" might as well not pussy foot around the topic.

John chuckled, "You don't. You always tried to be nice, but we just never really got along. I probably picked a few fights with you."

"Probably?" Bobby scoffed.

"Okay, fine. I did. Sam had already left for Stanford when you and Dean got together. Felt like I was losing both my boys. Guess I took it out on you."

"Oh. Truce?" you offered.

"Truce sounds good."

"If you ladies are done with your touchy feely moment, I'd like to know exactly what it is you're planning to do Hannah." Bobby never let anything slide.

"Gonna talk to an angel. One way or another."

**********************************************************************************************

Goodbyes were said, promises to come home in one living piece made and the brothers headed off to Colorado.

John and Bobby were buried nose deep in lore books looking for God knows what. You didn't care. Only one thing was on your mind.

Gabriel.

 Sure, there were plenty of other angels you could reach out to, but just thinking about trusting one of them to poke around in your head made you queasy. It had to be Gabe.

"Come on, man. I need help. I need answers and your my only hope." you had been praying for hours, begging him to show but nothing had happened. With a deep sigh you were ready to give up and started to walk out of your room when a sound stopped you.

The gentle ruffle of wings.

Turning quickly on your heels, you hoped to see Gabriel.

"Hey Sugar! Not every day that a pretty girl begs me to come to her bedroom." eyebrows wiggling and smirk on his face. Very Gabe.

"About damn time!"

"Easy, sugar. Play nice."

"Will you help me or not?"

"What's in it for me?

"I'd say satisfaction of doing a noble deed, but nobility isn't really your shtick. I'll keep the guys away from the college while you hand out peoples just desserts."

He considered the offer, "Okay."

"That easy?"

"Really want to question this?"

"Guess not. Will you help me sort this out? Do the fingers on my head mind reading thing and tell me what's real and what's not?"

"No need. This is very real, sweet checks."

"But, the other memories? How do you know?"

"Short version: Zachy knew he needed you out of the way. Dean-o had to go get Sammy and you were always going to tell him to say no to Michael. There was no voodoo thing in New Orleans, it was Zachariah. Different vessel obviously. He zapped you into another reality to get you out of the way, but keep you handy if he needed leverage later."

"I don't understand. Why the show then? How'd I get back? Sure, it's a total dick move so I believe he'd do it. But why chuck the plan so quickly?"

"Hello! I'm the angel who likes to mess with everyone. The TV show was my creation, 100% accurate too. Good use of that knowledge, by the way. The plan was screwed, so he zapped you back. Sorry about the scrambled eggs for brains part, a little too much angel mojo for your noggin."

"Well, thanks. I guess. I mean really, thank you Gabriel. What happens now?"

"You keep doing what you're doing. I'll be around." with the snap of his fingers he was gone.

Sitting on your bed, you let Gabriel's words sink in. The other memories weren't real, you would never see that life again. Angels tried to use you as a pawn in the apocalypse. This was your life, no matter how surreal it felt.

It was to much. Crawling under the covers you wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. You were overwhelmed, all you felt was numb. Since crying wasn't happening, you began thinking through what to do next.


	8. Come Hell or High Water

It had been two days since Sam and Dean had left for Colorado. John had finally pushed one too many of Bobby's buttons and took off with slamming doors, a few choice words and squealing tires. You'd spent most of your time quietly thinking about what Gabriel had said and deciding what to do with that. There were so many evils coming and friends to save, plus whatever new evils and tragedies decided to show their face. You knew changing things would have consequences, even Balthazar couldn't avoid the domino effect caused when details changed. Pushing any thoughts of ill effects aside, you pressed on with your plans to save who you could.

You hadn't told Bobby about your talk with Gabriel or anything else for that matter. You simply drifted through each day, spending some time trying to remember how to defend yourself. Mostly you were lost in thought. Lilith, Lucifer, Ruby, Leviathan, Abbadon, Metatron, Cain, Crowley, the Darkness. Each was a card still in the deck and you had to figure out when they would be played and how to counter the move to come out on top. Overwhelming was an understatement.

"I got tacos." you jumped at the sound of Bobby's voice behind you and nearly dropped the throwing knife in your hand.

Once seated at the table and eating, Bobby couldn't take the silence.

"Alright kid, what is it? You haven't talked about angels, asked about going home or really said anything in two days. Spill it."

"Bobby," his eyes raised at your irritated tone, "Fine. I talked to an angel. I am home and I don't know what to do. Just been thinking."

"An angel. You talked to an angel? Who? When? What'd he say?"

"Gabriel. Few hours after Dean and Sammy left. My other life was fake, another angel created it to hide me. Gabriel messed around with the other angels plans, gave me the TV show. All the angel mojo scrambled my brain a bit. Everything in the show is how things would have played out if Zachariah hadn't brought me back here. Those things could still happen!"

"You wanna calm down, Hannah? First, you keep doing what you're doing. You ain't no good to anyone, if you can't take care of yourself. Girl, you've got to start talking and let us help you work it out. No one said you had to figure it out alone."

"Gettin soft in your old age, Bobby?" 

"Shut up." his tone was light and teasing. The comfort of it helped you open up to him.

"We just killed the demon running hell. It's chaotic down there at best. At worst, Lilith is already running the show. I need to spend more time out back shooting, I can barely hit a car. If I had to take down a shifter or werewolf, I'd be screwed. Put the Colt in my hands and we only end up with wasted bullets." getting up to head out back, Bobby cleared his throat to speak, stopping you in your tracks.

"The apocalypse. What's the first seal?"

 _I should have kept walking. I don't want to talk about this. Not now, not ever._ "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Hannah Rene! We're talking about the apocalypse!"

"I know Bobby!" you spun around to face him, arms out wide. "I know better than any of you what happens if the 66 seals are broken and Lucifer gets out of the cage! I know!" you were screaming at this point, anger seethed through you. Not aimed at Bobby, just the situation. With a resigned groan you gave in, "The first seal is broken when a righteous man spills blood in hell."

"When Dean makes his deal, he's the ticket?" confusion colored Bobby's words. "Hell or not, Dean wouldn't,"

"He was in Hell for four months, that's 40 years in Hell time. Every day he was tortured in ways we can't even begin to imagine, begging for death that was never possible. Alistair, the demon who tortured him, offered every day to make it stop. On one condition. Dean had to start the torture himself." you couldn't meet Bobby's eyes, you just stared at the floor as you spoke. "For 30 years, he told Alistair no. He resisted for 30 years, but then he couldn't do it anymore. Alistair broke him, he spent 10 years torturing souls in Hell."

Nothing more was said. You walked out back and set up targets, determined to shot something and hope it made you feel better.

**********************************************************************************************

The next day was spent in the yard with Bobby, bottles lined up. By the time you decided to stop for lunch you were able to hit your target almost every time. With each new tip and instruction Bobby gave, old lessons came back to you. After a quick break for soup and sandwhiches, you were back at it.

"Okay, Hannah, so with the shot gun,"

"Really, Bobby? You taught me how to do this when I was 13. Back when you took me hunting for Bambi's mama instead of ghosts and monsters. I've got this."

Hands raised in surrender, "Okay, show me what you got."

After firing and reloading several times you turned to Bobby, "Well, looks like shot gun can go on the list with hand gun, bow and knives."

"What list?"

"Shit I am fucking lethal with! Who knew I was a badass."

Bobby scoffed, "Well, Miss Badass, you need to clean this mess up. Boys will be back either late tonight or early tomorrow. Gonna have to tell them about your conversation with the angel."

"Hey Bobby, can we keep the Hell stuff between you and me? Just for now. I don't want to deal with Dean and his guilt over starting the apocalypse in another timeline. The guilt load he has over shit in this timeline is enough."

"Figures. Without you, the boy goes and starts the damn apocalypse."

"I am pretty awesome."

"Please, you would do something just as stupid without him around."

"Probably. I'll get everything cleaned up and then start dinner."

**********************************************************************************************

Waking up the next morning, you could hear someone moving around in your room. Quiet foot steps, soft scrape of drawers opening and a slight creak from the closet door.  _Dumbass! This is the last house you want to break into._ Sliding your hand over the edge of the matress, you grasped the hand gun holstered to back of the headboard. Quickly, you sat up with your gun trained on the intruder who was just stepping out of the closet.

"Whoa! Babe, just me." there stood Dean, hands held out in front of him as an instinctive sign of surrender.

"Damn it, Dean!"

"Good to see you too." he smirked, "Even better to see you ready to kick ass. It's pretty hot." he crawled up the bed and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before trailing kisses down your neck.

"I'm still armed and I haven't had coffee."

"Come on, Hannah." he continued his persuasion with roaming hands and lips, "Babe, it's been weeks."

"I should have just shot you." the smile on your face was the only give away that you weren't entirely serious.

"Fine." he flopped on to the bed face first grumbling and mumbling.

"Are you whining? Really?"

Turning his head away from you, he mumbled "I go risk my life to kill a wendigo, save some lives. And what do I get when I come home? A gun pulled on me and my girl turns me down. Figures."

"Well, when you put it that way," he turned with a hopeful smile on his face, "I'm going to get coffee and get away from your whiney ass." you giggled as you jumped from the bed and ran out the door barely hearing Dean's response.

"Uugghhhh. Hannah!"

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you bumped into Sam. "Mornin Sammy."

"Good morning, Short stuff." he handed you a hot cup of coffee.

"What do you want, Samsquatch? This coffee comes with strings, I know it."

"I want to know what's next. What's our next case?"

"Case? Sammy we just got back." Dean wasn't quite as eager to get back on the road, not until he knew you'd be going with him.

"Dean, we've got..." Sam couldn't finish before you cut in.

"Not enough coffee in my system to deal with this boys! So, ummm, next case. I've been so focused on the big bads, I didn't think about the cases." walking into the kitchen and grabbing some cereal, you began to think. "After the wendigo, is a ghost. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin."

"Tell me there are bones to burn." Dean pleaded, hopeful for a simple salt and burn.

"Sorry. His body was let go in the lake." 

"How do we end him then?" Sam questioned between bites of cereal.

"Well, he's out for the families of the people who killed him. They were just boys when it happened. Anyway, the only way I know is for the ghost to drag both men down and kill them."

"Let's call that plan B and figure out a plan A." murders or not, Dean wasn't keen on sacrificing two men to put a ghost to rest.

Bobby spoke up, "I think I've seen a ritual in one of these books that can do it. We just have to find it."

"Guess we know what we're doing today." the dislike of spending the day with his nose in a book poured off Dean's words.

"More whining?" you teased.

"Shut up."


	9. Fighting Form

Early in the afternoon your eyes were burning. The ritual hadn't been found and the words had all started to blur together.

"I need a break." you declared as you slammed the book in front of you closed.

"I know what we could do." Dean turned on the charm.

"You just had break, Dean! You help Bobby keep looking, Sammy and me will be outside."

"Guess I could use a break." Sam said as he got up to follow you out the door.

"Bobby, What happened while we were gone?" Dean waited until the door closed behind you and Sam.

"She's been retraining herself. Spent most of her time out there for target practice." Bobby gestured toward the door.

"That's not what I'm asking. She's different, more like she was before New Orleans."

"You should ask her."

"Right." Dean turned back to the book in front of him and continued searching.

After another 20 minutes Bobby broke the silence that had settled between him and Dean, "Found it! I'll run to town for supplies. You go tell those two we found it."

Walking out the door Bobby and Dean stopped in their tracks at the sight before them. Sam's lip was swollen, his hair damp with sweat and both hands were raised in fists in front of him. You had a black eye, mud covered most of your body and could barely catch your breath.

"Come on, Banana!" Sam taunted.

Raising your fists back in front of your body, you retorted, "This time, you're going down, Samantha!"

"What the hell?" Bobby asked quietly.

"Tryin' to get your ass kicked, apple pie?" Dean teased loudly. 

"Not a chance! This ain't over until I take Sammy down!"

Thinking you were distracted, Sam lunged forward and swung his fist toward your face. Using his size to your advantage, you ducked under his fist. Raising your arm to slam an elbow between his shoulder blades while kicking him in the back of the knee.

Sam hit the ground hard, but you didn't relent, neither of you ever did. Pinning him on his stomach, using every pressure point you could to subdue him, you chuckled, "Gotcha!"

"Thirteen tries. That's sad. Now let me up."

"Not until you say it!"

"Ugh." Sam tried to break free, but couldn't budge, "Hannah is the greatest." he grumbled out.

Hopping off of him and trying to catch your breath, you smiled down at him as he rolled over, "Say it with feeling next time, Sammy. I don't think you really mean it."

"Boy, that was embarrassing just to watch." Bobby joked as he pulled Sam up from the ground.

"Maybe, but at least she can still take me down. Her mind may not remember how to fight, but her body sure does." Sam seemed proud to admit you could take him on and win.

"Wonder what else your body remembers." Dean whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you pulling your back flush against his chest, despite the mud coating your body. Lifting his head to speak to the group his tone raised, "Bobby found the ritual we need. He's going to get supplies. Sam, you should shower, man."

Bobby was pulling out of the driveway and Sammy was already in the house when you leaned back against Dean's chest, "Wanna see what else my body remembers?"

"Do I ever, apple pie." he pulled you tighter to his body.

You brought your hands up to grip his forearms where they crossed over your rib cage. As he leaned in toward your neck you tipped backwards, making you both lean back just a little. When you firmly planted your feet a bit wider, Dean noticed and paused. A quiet "Oh, shit." left his mouth at the exact moment you hinged your body forward, using his own body weight to propel him over your head to land flat on his back.

"I remember lots." you whispered to the man staring up at you.

"Son of a bitch, why did I teach you that!" he was trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him, "You know what, apple pie?" a mischievous smile crept across Dean's face.

"What?" you asked as innocently as possible while slowly backing away.

"You're goin down." it came out as a fact, not a challenge or an option, just an honest fact.

"Gonna have to catch me first." you took off running.

**********************************************************************************************

 After chasing you for some time Dean had finally caught you, pinning your back against one of the cars in the junk yard. Panting hard and adrenalin surging through his system, he smiled down at you, "Not fair to use the tricks I taught you against me."

"Oh, come on Winchester. You know the thrill is in the chase." You could hardly speak through your labored breathing.

With a chuckle he lifted you to sit on the trunk of the car he had pinned you against, "How'd things go while I was gone? Bobby said you've been doing lots of target practice."

"Yeah," you smiled and laughed softly, "I'm pretty lethal." you hesitated, looking into the impossibly green eyes of the man before you.

Knowing you were holding something back, he stepped forward positioning himself between your knees. Pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head as you curled into him, Dean pressed on, "What about the rest? The memories, the other reality, Chuck, talking to angels."

"Memories are still coming back to me, slowly. I don't need to find Chuck, though you and Sammy may want to. The other reality wasn't real, some angel created it to mess with me and fried my brain in the process."

Stiffening slightly he asked the obvious question, "How do you know all that?"

With a sigh you braced yourself, "I talked to an angel. An archangel actually."

"What?" pulling away with anger in his tone, Dean stared at you, "You didn't think I should know that? Maybe a 'Glad you're home alive, by the way, I let an archangel poke around in my head.' Damn it, Hannah!" anger elevated his voice.

"He didn't poke around in my head! At least not this time." your volume raised louder than Dean's, a sure sign that this fight was not near over. "He was already in there before. Gabriel is the one who gave me all the fucking knowledge I have of the future!"

"Seriously? You're gonna trust some feathery douche bag who's been messing with your mind, Hannah? Never thought you'd be that stupid!"

Dropping off the car and pushing Dean back not so gently, your fuming continued, "I do stupid shit all the time, like thinking you trusted me! I trust exactly two angels, Gabe and Cas. Neither of them screwed with my head. Hell, Gabe's little mind game is why I ended up back here and not stuck in La La Land!"

"I do trust you. But you haven't been yourself and I don't know who's making this choices, my Hannah or that other girl." rain started to fall, but neither of you would back down, "Hell, I don't even know what you're trying to do here. Get your memories back. Save the world. Go back to the other reality. What do you even want Hannah? Because whatever it is, trusting this angel is a shit way to get it."

"Going back isn't an option, it doesn't exist. I want my memories and to save the world, why not have both!" maybe it was the chill of the rain or maybe it was the trace of pain in Dean's voice, but you were losing your fire. "Like it or not, I trust Gabriel. He's a little shit, but he is honest. I'm not dumb enough to think he's got my back or anything, but he's not going to lie to me."

"Fine, trust the stupid angel." Dean's tone was only slightly softer, his anger was still burning hot, "So, what? You can't get back where you want to be, figured you'd try to play your part here and save the world as a consolation prize? I'll help you save the world, Hannah, but I'm done playing my part in something you don't even want." 

Before you could even begin to form words, Dean was backing the Impala down the drive way. You knew he was headed to a bar, and probably a bimbo, but you were too numb to care. The numbness wouldn't last, but until it broke, at least it kept the pain away.

Turning toward the house, slowing making your way out of the rain and into the shower you were lost in your thoughts of how wrong Dean was, how much you had wanted to stay even when you thought you had a choice, how much you loved him and he hurt you.

After a shower, dinner, talking to Sam and Bobby and cleaning the kitchen it was almost midnight. 7 hours since Dean took off. You tried to pretend you weren't waiting up for him and you tried to ignore the grimace on Sam's face every time you looked at the clock. Bobby had gone to bed an hour ago and you had finally run out of things to do. One look at Sam ruled out any sort of conversation you were willing to have.

"Night, Sam." you managed as you made your way up the stairs.

"Night, Hanny. Sleep well."

"I will." but you didn't. You were too cold without Dean beside you, too focused straining to hear the rumble of the Impala, too wide eyed looking for headlights to flash across the wall. Sleep never did arrive. Neither did Dean.


	10. Counting Time

You'd given up on sleep when you heard Sam making coffee. After spending the morning packing and avoiding any questions about where Dean went or why, you settled into a chair with one of Bobby's books on pagan gods.

It wasn't until Sam was making each of you a salad for lunch that Dean finally returned. You kept your nose in the book, unwilling to look at the jerk. Bobby and Sam both settled accusatory, angry looks on Dean.

"What?!" Dean couldn't handle the twin glares aimed at him. "Finish your rabbit food, Sammy. We're leaving in 20."

"I'll load the car Sammy, take your time." you sat your book on the desk and the uneaten salad Sam had handed you on the table.

As you grabbed the bags by the door and headed out to the Impala you could hear Bobby's raised voice, "Damn it, Dean!" the rest of the conversation was muffled.

Ten minutes later, both brothers were climbing into the front of the Impala as you slid into the back seat. The first hour of the drive was uncomfortably silent.

"So, we know how to stop the ghost, but tell us what happened. I mean how'd it play out before." Sam couldn't handle the tension anymore and would rather hear the tale of some kids ghost and people they would have failed to save, than spend the next 7 hours in this silence.

You told them every detail you could remember, including Dean's inability to find his way to a decent pick up line. Not eager for the conversation to end, you drew it out with as many details as possible, even insignificant ones. After two and a half hours, you couldn't think of anything else to draw the story out any longer.

Dean was ignoring speed limits as usual, so what should have been four and a half hours remaining would probably be three. Three very long hours if the atmosphere didn't lighten up soon.

"You getting hungry, Hannah? You didn't eat lunch." Dean's voice broke through the quiet that had settled in the car once again.

"I'm fine." the response was mumbled as you turned back to the window.  _Why does he care?_

"You gotta eat, Hannah." Dean pressed on.

"I'm fine." you gritted out from between your teeth, "You wanna eat, go ahead, Dean. You're gonna do whatever you want anyway."

The silence that over took the car lasted the rest of the ride. A ride that ended up taking only two and a half hours, even with gas stops.

Pulling into the Lake Front Motel parking lot, no one could get out of the car fast enough. Dean headed inside to get a room for all of you while you and Sam got the bags from the trunk.

"What happened, pipsqueak?"

"Don't wanna talk about it, Sam."

"That bad huh. Won't talk about it and I'm Sam now. Dean's a dick."

"Yeah, it's that bad. And, yeah, he's a dick, but I should've..." seeing Dean headed back towards the car, you let the words trail off.

Once in the room, everyone set about preparing things for the ritual that had to be preformed at midnight. Only four hours to get ready. It seemed like counting time to the next thing was what kept you together.

Only an hour passed before things were ready to go for the night. Three hours left to kill. This was not going to be pleasant. The same uneasy silence began to settle in the room as everyone sat around the room. Sam and Dean were at the table cleaning their shot guns. You were seated on one of the beds going over the incantation for the ritual.

"Alright! I can't take this crap guys. What the hell happened?" Sam exploded.

"Hannah talked to an angel! But she didn't think that was something important to share with the class! And she doesn't want to be here, she wants to go back to a life that doesn't exist! Don't let her fool ya, Sammy, she doesn't want anything to do with us. She's just trying to save the world since she can't go home." the bathroom door slammed behind Dean as he finished his tyraid.

"You talked to an angel? When? Who?" Sam was calm as he turned to face you, more in awe of the angel part of the equation, than pissed you hadn't immediately told him.

"Yeah. The archangel Gabriel, a little after you guys left for Colorado."

"What'd he say? What's he like?"

"He's Gabe. He's a sassy little shit. Not exactly the Hallmark card angelic vision. The other reality wasn't real at all. It was all false memories implanted when another angel, Zachariah, zapped me there for part of his plan. Gabe screwed with his plan, my brain got fried and then I woke up in the hospital."

"Okay. So Dean's pissed because you didn't tell him right away?"

"Partly. He also thinks I don't want to be here. That I'm just 'being Hannah' and don't really feel anything."

"What a dumbass. What was the plan?"

"Can we talk about that later Sammy? There's a lot to explain for the plan to even begin to make sense, and I'd rather do that once."

Dean walked out of the bathroom looking calmer than he had all afternoon. "Anyone hungry?"

Grabbing your coat and walking toward the door, "I could eat. There's a diner across the street. Rabbit food for Sammy and a heart attack for Dean, right?"

Both men hummed approval as you headed out the door. The diner was almost empty and you were soon back at the room. Hearing Dean on the verge of yelling you stopped short of opening the door.

"I know, Sam. I told you, I screwed up. I was pissed, I was drunk." Dean's voice carried easily through the door.

"Really Dean? That makes it okay that you screwed some blonde! You cheated on Hannah!" the anger radiating from Sam was palpable even from outside the room.

"It's not okay. I shouldn't have gone to the bar. Meg shouldn't have happened." hearing Dean's words, you flung the door open.

Dropping the food to the table and kicking the door shut, you faced two men with shocked faces, "A blonde? Named Meg?" there was no anger or hurt in your voice.

"How much did you hear?" 

"Don't sweat it, Dean. I knew you'd find someone to comfort you after you broke my heart." your tone remained calm and level, "Just, please, for the love of god, tell me her last name isn't Masters."

"How'd you?" he couldn't finish the question, his head was swimming and his shock was only inceasing.

Every fiber of your being pulsed with rage. Your tone was no longer calm as your voice rose louder with each sentence, "Son of a bitch. You stupid shit! You call me stupid for talking to an angel. Then you go shtup a fucking demon! And not just any demon, no, Azazel's daughter! Who probably wants all our heads on a plate right about now! Damn it, Dean! Could you just keep it in your damn pants for once!"

Two pairs of eyes just stared at you as the information you spewed forth sunk it. Sam's stiffled laughter broke the silence, "You hooked up with a demon."

"Shut up." Dean glared.

You couldn't help but join in with Sam's laughter, "Serves him right!"

"Laugh it up you two!"

Finally calming yourself down with a sigh you looked at Sam and Dean, "Guess we know who the next big bad to deal with is. We'll deal with Meg after we're done here. God, I thought I only had to worry about Sammy's flings with monsters. At least until the Amazons."

"Wait, what?" Sam stopped what could only be described as a giggle fit and looked at you seriously, "Flings with monsters?"

"One night stand with a werewolf named Madison. A demon, Ruby, who's just a royal pain in the ass. A little run in with that kitsune, Amy from way back. Seriously, Sammy."

"Amazons?" Dean couldn't curb his curiosity.

"Yep," you loudly popped the 'p'. "And seriously, remember, no glove no love. Sammy shouldn't have to shoot his Amazon niece a week after she's born." breaking it to them gently had gone out the window. You didn't want to fight about Meg and have the chick flick relationship drama moment, but you needed to let off some steam.

"Shoot a baby?" the appalled look on Sam's face reminded you that you were not mad at him. Dean was just standing in the middle of the room, slack jawed and white as a sheet.

"Technically, she was like a week old, I think. But physically, she was 16 and trying to kill Dean as a right of passage. So, you shot a teenager who was out to kill your brother. Oh, and there's the angel Dean fucks in the Impala. Seriously fellas, can we keep it in the realm of human."

Setting the food out on the table, another kind of silence settled around the room. Both of the brothers contemplating the information of their future sexual exploits as they ate. Meanwhile, you were trying to determine the best course of action to handle Meg, while also forcing all thoughts of her and Dean together from your mind.

Two hours until the ritual could be done and Sam took off to God knows where. You suspected he just wanted to give you and Dean space and time to talk. Which you really hoped didn't happen. You couldn't get that lucky.

"Listen, I know what I said... What I did... I don't expect you to forgive me. But I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again. No angels, no Amazons. I'm tired of screwing this up." Dean sounded tired, more mentally and emotionally than physically.

After a moment of quiet and a deep breath you finally settled on the words to say, "I forgive you, because if I don't, I'm the one to suffer. Don't think for one second, Dean Winchester, that my forgiveness wipes the slate clean and we go back to how things were. I can't. I wanted to stay, I always wanted to stay." tears were trying to spill down your cheeks, but you refused to let them, "I wanted you, I wanted my life back. You took that away. So now, I'll just save the damn world and try to keep you and Sammy out of as much trouble as possible."

"I'm sorry, apple pie."

"Don't. You don't get to call me that. Not now." one tear slid down your cheek.

Softly and almost to himself, Dean mumbled, "Looks like I can screw up forever and always just like everything else." a deep sigh and hand running down his face completed the look of an entirely broken man.

Seeing him like that broke something inside you, "I need time, Dean. Forever and always is a long time, it's not gonna be lollipops and candy canes the whole time. How I feel hasn't changed, but maybe how you feel has. You've kept so much closed off from me." shaking your head and taking a deep breath, "You know what, never mind. I'm not doing this. You we're an ass, deal with the consequences."

Thankfully, Sam walked through the door at that moment. For once he was hoping to walk in on something he never wanted to see. While he didn't want to see what was before him, more fighting and awkward silence wasn't really what he hand in mind.

One hour until midnight. Everyone loaded into the car and Dean drove out to the lake. Dean found a secluded place to park on the far side of the lake. 

Everything was set up and ready to go. 10 minutes until midnight. 10 minutes of everyone on guard, hoping Peter's spirit didn't make a move before the ritual could be completed.

Surprisingly, things went off without a hitch. It seemed almost too good to be true as you all watched the boys spirit rise above the water before he burst into flames. Only 20 minutes after midnight, you were back in the Impala and heading back to the motel.

Sam went straight to bed, falling asleep quickly. Dean headed to the shower and you sat at the table in the dimly lit room. Adrenaline pumped through your vains, killing any chance you had of falling asleep before Dean was done in the shower.

Emerging from the bathroom in a dark grey t-shirt and black boxer briefs, Dean was startled by the sight of you sitting at the table. You had changed into black yoga pants and a green tank top, curled yourself into a chair and were twirling a knife in your hand. "Thought you'd be asleep."

"No such luck, Dean. Never understood how Sammy can fall asleep so fast after a hunt. The thrill and rush pumping. I can't just switch it off like that."

Sitting down opposite you at the table and taking a deep breath, "I'm an idiot."

"Tell me something I don't know."

He chuckled softly. "So, this angel."

"Do we have to?"

"He's really okay? You trust him? I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that angels are real."

"I trust him."

"Then I'll trust him."

Your eyebrows raised, skepticism slowly reaching all your features. "That easy huh? Gonna trust an angel just to get back in my good graces?"

"To start." without another word, he climbed into bed leaving enough room for you to join him.

After a few moments of silence, you climbed into bed. Turning on your side, you curled into the warm body next to you snuggling in close, brushing a chunk of hair from his face whispering "Night Sammy." before you closed your eyes.

Dean made a pained groan in the other bed before speaking, "For the record, I still... Nothing changed. Forever and always, apple pie."

"Night, Winchester."

"Night, babe."


	11. Rings of Truth

Waking up the next morning, Sam was gone and Dean was emerging from the bathroom looking half awake.

Stretching your stiff muscles, you began speaking before you had even finished yawning, "Where's Sammy?"

"Went to grab breakfast." Dean answered shortly.

Lost in thought over what to do about Meg and the next case, the phantom traveler, you hadn't heard Dean continue speaking.

"Hello? Anyone home in there?"

"Umm, sorry. I'm gonna get a shower." you quickly gathered clean clothes and made your way into the bathroom to get ready for the day and continue thinking.

When you came out 20 minutes later, Sam was back and they were both half way through their food.

"Got you French toast and extra bacon, Hanny." Sam said as he handed you the take out container.

"Good boy, Sammy." you teased ruffling his hair while he tried to bat your hand away.

Tossing his garbage in the trash can, Dean headed to the bathroom to change. You sighed and looked at the closed door longer than anyone should.

"You guys gonna be okay? Or even on speaking terms, anytime soon?"

"Eventually. I'm trying on the talking, but..." you were at a loss for words, "Anyway, we need to take care of Meg."

Dean walked out just in time to hear Meg's name. He cringed with guilt and readied himself for a fight. More like readied for the chastising he knew he deserved. Standing near the table, he looked like he was braced for the next blow in a fight, ready to accept whatever you dished out.

"We still have the colt, Meg shouldn't be a problem." Sam offered.

"No, Sammy. As much as I'd love to see her dead, we can't. She's a demon, but the innocent girl she's riding around in doesn't need to die. Not this time. We'll trap her and exorcise her."

"How are we going to trap her?" Sam was always working through each detail of the plan looking for flaws.

"Bait." the brothers both looked at you questioningly, "She wants us dead, shouldn't be too hard to make ourselves sitting ducks. It's not like I'm talking risking innocent lives here. Just letting revenge blind her and use it to our advantage, hopefully with her brother in tow."

 "No. No way. You're not gonna be bait, apple pie!"

"Dean, bait or not, she's after us. Either we're bait or we're prey. There is no safe option here!"

**********************************************************************************************

By 10 o'clock the Impala was loaded and you were back on the road to Bobby's house. Causal conversation filled the air this time, making the drive far more pleasant.

"Do we have another case? Should we be looking for something else?" Sam was unsure how to proceed with knowledge of what's to come at his finger tips.

"We could take a little shore leave, hit Vegas." Dean offered with a charming smile.

"The next case is a phantom traveler in early December. I don't think we can get that one until it's ready to show its face. After that is Bloody Mary in Toledo, then the shapeshifter in St. Louis."

"Bloody Mary? Like THE Bloody Mary?"

"Yes, Dean. Scratch your eyes out to kill you after she's summoned in a bathroom mirror, Bloody Mary."

"Let's go take out Mary while we wait for our phantom traveler." Dean started mentally plotting his change in navigation.

"We should go to St. Louis first, take out the shifter. Mary's mirror is still in storage, but the shifter is already on the loose." You cringed at your own words, shapeshifter gave you the creeps.

"Hannah, Bloody Mary is one of the most famous urban legends. We gotta do that one!"

Sam was silent as you and Dean argued which case to tackle first. He saw no reason to step into the cross fire.

"Give me one good reason to put off taking out Mary." there was challenge in Dean's words.

"One? How about several! Sam's friend Zach goes to prison, among others. Several young women lose their lives after horrible torture. And if we wait, the shifter wears your skin, Dean, and all his crimes get pinned on you when you kill him to save Sam and Becky! Starting a nice little rap sheet for you that leads to some serious FBI trouble later!"

"Zach? Becky?" Sam was wide eyed hearing his friends fates, but neither Dean nor you acknowledged he was speaking.

Calming and focusing on the road, Dean's tone changed, "So, St. Louis then." Once more he recalculated the route in his head.

A couple hours later Dean pulled the Impala into a diner parking lot. You had been recounting the tale of the shapeshifter in every detail you could remember as everyone worked together to form a plan.

Before anyone could get out Sam spoke up, "Grab me something, I'll eat on the road. I'm going to the library, see if I can find any sign of what we were going to go after in Bisbee."

With you and Dean nodding in agreement, Sam headed across the street, to the conveniently located library.

After getting seated in a booth and placing your orders, you were both trying to figure out what to say.

With a soft groan, Dean broke the silence, "This whole thing is messed up."

"I wanted to stay, ya know. But I just wanted to know what was real, where I was supposed to be." your eyes were locked on the ice swirling in your water glass as you spoke softly.

"That makes me even more of an ass."

"No, not possible. You're already the biggest ass on the planet." finally looking up with a cheeky smile. Dean just chuckled at your playful response. "So, umm."

"What?" Dean knew you had something on your mind.

"I've gotten a lot of my memories back. But I don't remember New Orleans or when you gave me the ring. I want to. I keep trying, but I can't seem to get those back."

"Maybe it's better that way. You can make new memories."

"Whatcha hidin, Winchester?"

"Damn it, apple pie." the smile on Dean's face didn't conceal the sadness and fear, not from you. "You ever gonna stop callin me out on this shit?"

"Probably not. Now spill."

"I gave you the ring in New Orleans. We were... Ummm... Errr... Taking a break from research. Trying to track that guy down wasn't easy, wish we never found him." his tone was low and calm. Too calm, a sure sign Dean was truly angry.

"It's what we do, babe. We track down the evil son of a bitch and end 'em. It's the job, the life."

"When we walked through that door and he was waiting for us, I knew we were screwed. Then he just snapped his fingers and you were gone. Just vanished. And so did he. I failed at protecting you right after I..." when he looked up to meet your gaze tears were filling his eyes.

Images of the run down house flashed before your eyes. Memories of the ride there, arguing he was going the wrong way to the address you'd found. Each moment was coming back to you in reverse. Sitting at the table in the dimly lit motel when you found what you were looking for. Laying naked in the motel bed, bodies tangle together enjoying the afterglow and talking. His hands sliding across your skin. Your nails digging into his back. Hungry kisses on your bare shoulders. Falling on to the bed with Dean on top of you. Gentle kisses on your neck as you sat at the table.

Reopening your eyes after the throbbing in your head subsided, you looked at Dean's concerned expression.

Swallowing thickly and speaking softly, "Right after you asked me to trust you to always be there. T-to... To marry you." you looked at the ring you had been wearing on your right hand. "Oh my god. We were... Are... Holy shit, engaged."

***flashback***

Dean and you laid in bed cuddling after a "research break". His arm around your body, fingers trailing from hip to shoulder and back repeatedly.

"Apple pie?"

You contentedly hummed in response as your fingers traced the muscles of his torso.

"This isn't really how I planned on doing this, but life's short, ya know?" he was leaning over the side of the bed to grab his jeans where they had dropped.

"Dean?" you couldn't figure out what the man was up to or what he was pulling out of his pocket.

"Hannah," he started fiddling with the small velvet box in his hand.

"Oh fuck." realization hit you with a jolt.

"There isn't anyone else I'd rather spend however much time I have on this planet with. Fighting beside you, protecting you, taking care of you... I know you can do that yourself and save my ass too. But, just... Will you trust me to also protect you? Will you..."

Your lips crashed into his, "Yes, I'll put up with you for eternity." you smiled at him as your foreheads pressed together.

With a small relieved laugh, Dean opened the box to reveal a simple silver band engraved "Forever and Always."

***end flashback***

Dean sat silent, unsure what to say. Until he heard you start to laugh quietly. "What's so damn funny?"

"For one, God you're an ass. Two, Dean Winchester getting married. To me. Give me 20 years to wrap my mind around that one." you tried to stop laughing, but the idea seemed absurd.

"You don't have to, Hannah. We don't."

The look on his face sobered you quickly. A mix of pain, fear and hurt showed in his emerald eyes. "Fuck. Dean, I didn't mean... It's not that I don't want to, just... The you I know from the TV show doesn't do commitment. Not really."

"Guess without you, I wouldn't."

You blushed and laughed nervously looked down at your lap to avoid eye contact. Seeing his eyes now would kill your resolve to still keep him at arms length. Thankfully, the waitress arrived with your order at that moment.

Food was enjoyed in comfortable silence as you both considered what the future held for the two of you. You trying to wrap your head around being engaged to Dean. Him trying to figure out if he screwed up the best thing he'd ever had in one drunken night.

When you both existed the booth after finishing your food, Dean turned back to drop cash on table and grab Sam's take away box. When he turned to face you again, he saw you placing your ring on to your left ring finger and smiled.

"So, we're okay?" he asked.

Standing on tip toe to place a sweet, gentle kiss on his lips, you smiled up at him, "We will be. I'm not letting you off that easy, Winchester."

"Wouldn't expect you to, sweetheart." sliding an arm around your back, his hand landing in your back pocket, he pulled you into his side as you both headed toward the door.

Sam was just returning to the Impala when you and Dean walked out the door. His eyebrows raised at the sight of you two snuggled up to each other. "So get this. Bisbee Arizona, Silver King Hotel. There have been several murders over the last century. Traced it back as far as I could, three miners shot dead."

"Three? Great. Are you sure it's a spirit?" Dean wasn't excited by the prospect of three graves to dig up.

"Well, two were cremated, so should just be the one." Sam explained, holding up the death certificates he had copied.

"Fantastic. We'll head to Bisbee after the shifter and Mary. Should have time for that, right?"

"Quite the over achiever, Winchester." you teased nudging Dean in the ribs. You climbed into the back and stretched out across the seat, "I am taking a nap. So full. Shouldn't have had the pie." 

"At least not the second piece. I swear you're worse than me!" Dean retorted, closing the car door.

"She seems happy."

"Yeah. No thanks to me." Dean mumbled. "Hop in Sammy. That shifter ain't gonna shot itself."

Before Sam got in the car he looked over the roof at his brother, "You're an idiot."

"I think that's been covered. What I did was..."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Dean. You really think you don't make her happy. That, that is why you're an idiot." without another word, Sam ducked into the car and slammed the door.

Dean leaned on the roof for a moment letting Sammy's words sink in. With a tap of his knuckles on the roof and sigh, Dean got in and started the Impala.


	12. Can't Run From Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm slowing down on this. The holidays are getting a tad crazy around here. But never fear, abandoned fanfics are the saddest thing ever, so I will not abandon this one.

Sitting around the motel table in St Louis, the three of you reviewed the plan. It was a simple plan, get into the sewer system, find the shifters lair, shoot him.

Guns were checked, silver bullets loaded and off you went to the manhole into the sewer behind Zach's house. As soon as you pulled up, the plan hit a snag. Zach was outside and spotted Sammy.

"Sam?" Zach was surprised to see him.

"Uh, hey man. Just on a trip with my brother, thought I'd stop by since I was in the area." Sam was stumbling through his explanation.

Still looking shocked, Zach invited everyone in. Sam, Dean and you exchanged glances, aborting the plan now wasn't an option.

"That's so sweet of you Zach," you started in a saccharine tone, "but Dean and I will let you and Sammy catch up. We've got something to take care of. It was real nice meeting you."

Good byes were said, Dean and Sam did one of their silent conversations that usually went over your head, and then you and Dean were off for another point on the sewer line to enter.

Dean turned to look at you riding shootgun, "Looks like it's just you and me, apple pie."

"Good thing we make a Hell of a team. Not as good as you and Sam though."

"Sure." he wasn't entirely convinced, he didn't know what an incredible pair they really made.

A few blocks down, behind the building you knew the shifter would hit after Zach's house, you and Dean climbed down into the sewer system and began making your way quietly along the corridor. The smell was putrid, the sound of dripping water echoed in the stillness and the lighting was dim as you both made your way along.

After several yards there was another corridor to your left. Dean was ahead of you and signaled for you to cover him as he checked it out.

As he quickly rounded the corner, he fired off two shots instantly. The thud and swearing that followed set an adrenaline surge through your system. Quick foot steps rounded corner, the figure slammed into you knocking you aginst the wall as he continued on his escape down the corridor.

As you tried to steady your aim, your vison blurred from the tears wetting your eyes after the impact of your head against the wall.

"Down!" you heard Dean growl behind you.

You dropped quickly as he fired off three shots. Lifting your head slightly, you saw the shifter drop to the ground, splashing in the murky water. 

Helping you up, Dean looked you over for injuries, "You okay apple pie? Anything hurt?"

"Only my pride, but it's about time you save my ass for once." you quipped.

"Yeah, first time I've ever done that." sarcasm dripped from his words. "Let's go."

Climbing out of the sewer you were both surprised to see Sam leaning on the Impala, deep in thought. It had been barely an hour since you and Dean had left him with Zach. 

"Hey Sammy, back so soon?" you broke through the silence.

Startling just a little Sam looked up and distractedly responded, "Uh, yeah. Zach had to get to work. You two smell like a toilet."

"Shut up." Dean opened the drivers door and climbed in, starting the engine.

"What is it, Sam?" you asked quietly. But before he could answer Dean was hollering for you both to get in or get left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the motel, showered and in clean clothes, you sat at the table cleaning your gun as you watched Sam. He had sat down on the end of one of the beds, flopped his body back on the bed and simply stared at the ceiling for over an hour. You softly kicked Dean under the table and tipped your head toward Sam when he made eye contact. He quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to cleaning his own gun.

 "Fine, not gonna nut up, I will." you grumbled quietly at Dean, who momentarily looked like he regretted not handling it himself. Turning your attention to the bed you spoke gently, "What's the deal, Samsquatch?"

"I don't know."

"That's a pile of shit, Sammy, you know everything, right?!" trying to make light of the tense air in the room, Dean chimed in. The hell fire intense glare you sent him, silenced any further teasing he had in mind.

Walking over to the bed and laying your head next to Sam's, with your butt on the pillows and feet stretched beyond the headboard, you just looked at him expectantly. He continued to silently watch the ceiling. You continued waiting, the only sound in the room being the soft clicks as Dean began assembling both of the cleaned guns.

"Why am I still here? Why am I doing this? Yellow eyes is dead. I should be back at school. Get into law school." Sam finally spoke.

Dean still hadn't spoke, but he was radiating that intense hunters focus he had when assessing a threat. Sammy leaving was a threat.

Knowing you wouldn't say thing yet, Sam continued, "You and Dean are a Hell of team and don't need me. I can go finish school, get out just like I always wanted. A normal life, a safe life. I don't have any reason to keep doing this." his head turned and his teary eyes met yours.

"You could go back." you could feel Dean tense at your words, shifting your gaze to the ceiling before you spoke again "But how many people are ever really out of the life Sam? How out of the life were you really? Sure, Dean and I make a pretty sweet team, but we all bring different skills to the table. We sure as Hell need every skill every one of us has."

When your eyes connected with Sam's again, he spoke softly, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Of course you have a choice. And I get it Sam, I have memories of a normal life, so I get the appeal of that in a way I never did before. But I also know that at sometimes you won't have a choice and I've seen all the amazing things you accomplish and the people you save. Lawyers don't always suck, but there's no way you could do better for the world in a court room than you do riding shotgun."

"She's right man, wouldn't be the same without you." Dean finally spoke up.

Sitting up and turning a bit to face you, Sam had his brows wrinkled together in thought, "What do you mean sometimes I won't have a choice?"

"I mean both of you." You sat up and turned to sit with your legs crossed in front of you, "It's your bloodline. Seriously, even without Azazel, I don't think you guys were ever going to get normal. Sorry."

"What the hell are you talking about, apple pie?"

"Oh man, where do I start? Campbell side? Winchester side?" you were mostly rambling to yourself trying to work out how to start.

"The beginning?" Sam offered.

"The beginning... Well, your bloodline traces back to Cain and Abel, Cain specifically, if you want to start at the beginning."

"Let's keep it a little more recent." Dean was losing patience.

"Okay. Shut up and listen. The angels worked their asses off to make sure John and Mary got together and that you two where born."

"What? Why?" Dean interrupted.

"I said shut up and listen, Winchester." You shot him a death glare once again, "It was about bringing together two powerful bloodlines. Mary's side, the Campbell's, were some of strongest hunters on the planet."

"Wait! Mom was a hunter?" disbelief colored Sam's question.

"Yes. The entire Campbell family are or we're hunters. Great ones too. Sam you're so much like her, all she ever wanted was to get out, have a family. She thought she had found that with John, but she didn't know the Winchester side. Even John didn't... doesn't know. Henry, John's dad, was part of The Men of Letters. They were a secret organization of scholars who researched supernatural beings and events."

"Bringing both sides together, means we're..." the pieces of the puzzle were falling together in Sam's mind.

"You and Dean are a legacy, an insanely powerful legacy. Great hunters, Men of Letters, angel vessels." you started to ramble again.

"Whoa! Whoa! Angel what?" Dean broke through your rambling.

"Oh, ummm. The Winchester bloodline. You're also the true vessels for a couple of archangels. The only men strong enough to hold them."

"Which means what?" Dean didn't look happy.

"Angels need to posses a vessel, just like demons. Archangels can occupy other vessels, but if it's not their true vessel, the person slowly deteriorates and breaks down. It's not able to hold them."

"Their true vessel? So, who..." curiosity always got the best of Sam.

"Ummm... Well... Dean is Michael's true vessel... and... ummm... Sam... Well... You're Lucifer's."

"Lucifer?" Sam barely got out the one word.

"So, the devil can just hop a ride in a Sam suit whenever he wants?" with each word Dean's ton rose toward panic.

"No! Angels need permission to occupy a vessel. Although really, Lucifer is much more patient than Michael and his lackies."

A silence settled over the room as the guys let a lot of new information sink in and they tried to process it. You were simply waiting for their reactions.

With a mirthless chuckle, Sam broke the silence, "Basically, I can't run from destiny."

"You could. You could fight tooth and nail to pursue a normal life, but you're not a normal man, Samuel Winchester. Maybe with Azazel gone, normal could be possible. There's no apocalypse on the horizon. But at the end of the day, you're one of the most powerful men around to fight all the shit that goes bump in the night and if the apocalypse comes, Lucifer will be headed straight for you. You always have a choice, but you should have the big picture in mind when making that choice."

"I need air." the door clicked softly behind Sam as he left the motel room.

"You're just gonna let him leave again?" Dean tried to conceal his anger.

"If he wants to. I want him to stay, Dean. Hell, we need him to stay, but forcing him isn't gonna work! John tried and look how that turned out!"

"I know! I know, okay. Just don't want him running off again."

"Then can we stop fighting about this. If you want to fight, how about we focus on why you've been a PMSing little ninny lately!" you two could pull a fight out of thin air.

"Maybe because my fiancee would rather share a bed with my brother than with me. We're fine all day unless we're alone, then you either shut down or pick a fight!" his tone was loud, but more frustrated and hurt than angry.

"Gosh, wonder why I'm not eager to hop in bed with the man who promised to love and protect me forever, fucked someone else at the first sign of trouble!? You broke my trust!" your voice cracked, tears started to roll down your cheeks, "Hell, you broke my heart."

Dean's shoulders sagged as the anger left him and was replaced once again with some much deserved guilt, "I'm an ass, I know. I just miss you." he struggled to get out the words, but seeing the strongest woman he knew sobbing broke down some of his emotional barriers, at least temporarily, "All I've wanted since you went missing was to find you, know you're safe and fall asleep holding you again... Because that's when things feel right. When I can remember why I keep going."

Your tears slowed as you looked up into Dean's perfectly green eyes,  _When did he move so close to me? God, those eyes are magical. Crap, crap, crap. Stand your ground. He's an ass. A sweet, stupid ass who just got all gooey and emotional on me._

There were only a few inches separating you and Dean. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the cinnamon gum he was chewing, hear the shaking in his breathing as he waiting for you to say something and see the fear in his eyes that after opening up like that, rejection was ahead. He overwhelmed your senses and your mind. You couldn't form words, you couldn't think. Acting on urge and impulse, you stepped forward wrapping your arms around his waist. Pulling yourself flush against him and resting your head on his chest, you felt his arm surround you. One of his hands landed in your hair, the other on your lower back, both holding you impossibly closer to him. His lips rested on top of your head, occasional kisses placed in your hair.

Neither of you was eager to let go. This was safety. This was home. This was exactly what you both needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if that sucked, I'm not thrilled with it. Stupid depression is making it difficult to write lately.


	13. Heat of the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***WARNING***
> 
> Or more like a heads up. This chapter is smutty smut smut. And not a whole lot else.
> 
> If reading smut isn't your thing, this chapter can be skipped without missing anything important.

You stood there, wrapped in Dean's arms, neither of you willing to move. Everything felt right, pulling away and ruining the moment seemed like the worst idea. It was magical. Dean placed another kiss on top of your head, pulling a contented sigh from you.

With that one little breath of air, the energy in the room shifted. Everything seemed warmer and electrically charged. You could feel your heart start beating faster and hear Dean's responding the same way. His hand slowly untangled from your hair and slid down your back to join his other hand on your lower back.

Tipping your head back, not risking moving your body away from his, you looked up into the darkest shade of emerald you've ever know. Dean looked into your eyes like he was searching for something. Whatever he found must have been encouraging, without warning his lips slammed into yours. A sloppy, rough kiss that left you breathless when he pulled away.

"Hannah." you're name rolled off his tongue like a desperate plea. His hands sliding to your hips, up your sides and back down to your ass, he couldn't hold them still. The rest of his body was frozen in place, all his energy directed to the exploration of his hands across your body. Mapping every curve he could reach.

Soft sighs and moans left your lips at his gentle touch, relaxing you and melting you. Your hands slid up his back, unintentionally dragging his t-shirt up. One hand slipped back down to the bare skin, even that chaste touch spurred a lusty groan from Dean before your lips reconnected.

His hands trailed down to the backs of your thighs, without breaking the connection of your lips he lifted you effortlessly. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his waist before you started pulling back to speak.

Sensing the move to pull back, Dean's hand was back in your hair, holding your head in place. His other hand continued to roughly grope your ass. The forceful display drew a needy moan out of your throat, as one of your hands found its way to Dean's hair.

The gentle tugging of your fingers in his short hair pulled a groaning growl from him that broke the kiss. Breathless and panting you got out one word, "Bed."

He didn't hesitate to comply with your request and dropped both of you to the bed. As he landed on top of you, his hips pressed against your core. Both of you moaning at the friction that wasn't quite what either of you needed. Your hands grasped at the back of his shirt pulling it up and over his head. Dean only gave you a moment to relish the view before his lips connected with your neck, lavishing kisses and nibbles over every bit of exposed skin his mouth could find.

Every noise you made spurred Dean on. He was basking in the thrill of each sound he evoked, while you were trying to kick off your boots and socks before pleasure flooded your mind beyond function. Kissing down to your collarbone and meeting the collar of your shirt, Dean made quick work of removing the pesky obstacle. Still raised above you kneeling on the bed between your legs, your shirt still in his hand, he took his time enjoying the sight of you below him. Face flushed, eyelids heavy and only a lacy crimson bra adorning your top half.

"God, you're perfect." the words left his mouth hardly a whisper.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you made quick work of his belt buckle, button and zipper.

"Someone's in a hurry." he teased.

"Shut up. You're just wearing too many clothes." tracing your fingers along the waistband of his boxer briefs, you couldn't hide the impatience in your voice.

"So are you." without any more warning Dean had your pants unfastened and pulled to the ground. "Shit." revealing panties that matched your bra sent another wave of arousal through his system, "So fucking gorgeous." Dean stood in front of you memorizing exactly how you looked in that moment.

"Just gonna watch or you gonna get that perky ass over here?" you smiled as Dean snapped out of his revery.

Shoving his jeans to the floor, he lunged back over top of you. Hands once more exploring every curve and angle of your body as he enjoyed the feel of your lips against his neck, shoulders and chest. 

Your lips were still on his neck as he ducked his head to kiss the exposed skin of your breast. His hand slid lower down your body before slipping under the lacy fabric of your panties, teasingly caressing your mound.

Throwing your head back and gasping for air, you found your voice, "You're a damn tease, Winchester!"

Dean's eyes met yours as he chuckled softly, "Really?" one thick finger made quick work of opening you and plunging into your soaking core. "Damn babe." feeling how wet you were for him was enough to encourage him to quickly add a second finger as he began pumping his digits into you.

"Shit." you couldn't hold back. His fingers caressed exactly where you needed them and the rapid building of pleasure was uncontainable. He kissed his way down your body and wrapped his plump lips around your swollen clit, sending you over the edge.

When the blissful euphoria settled, you realized he had removed the last of the clothing either of you was wearing and was hovering over top of you, supporting his weight on his elbows.

"Damn." was the only word that escaped you before your mouths reconnected in another heated, messy kiss. Hands roaming each other's bodies, both of you oblivious to any other sound or sensation.

"Oh, God... Gross!" Sam's voice echoed as the door slammed behind him as he fled the room. You and Dean looked into each other's eyes and laughed softly.

"Poor Sammy."

"Never ever say my brother's name when we're naked again. Please!"

"Then whose name should I say?" you inquired coyly.

"Mine." Dean began kissing your neck again, "only mine."

"Make me." the challenge was eagerly accepted as Dean thrust deep into you and set a pace that left you gasping.

Every thrust pushed and pulled exquisitely, building the tight pressure in your core. Your fingers dug into Dean's back while you cried out a string of curses, moans and gasps. Diligently avoiding his name.

"Oh, babe." his voice was a soft growl in your ear that had you begging for more, "Say it." 

Dean began pounding into you faster and harder. Every fiber aching for release, but he knew how to keep you right on the edge.

"FuckFuckFuck. God, Dean, PLEASE!" your voice poured out as a scream. The moment his name passed your lips, his hips shifted slightly and one hand snaked between your bodies to reach your aching clit.

The perfect combination. Your vision blurred, your entire body tingled and you couldn't breath, yet somehow managed to chant his name as praise for the euphoric bliss washing over you. The sheer force of your orgasm, pushed Dean to his own with a few choice words slipping from his lips into your hair where his face was buried.

As you both came down from the orgasmic high, Dean rolled to his side. Laying next to you, he pulled you close to him.

"Wow. Just wow." the words left your mouth in gasped breaths.

"Yeah." Dean agreed with a genuine smile. He started to speak but was interupted by the buzzing of his phone.

Reaching over the side of the bed, you grabbed his pants and fished his phone out of his pocket. "Dean's pants. He's not in them right now." you giggled into the phone.

"Let me know when he's back in them. It's raining and the Impala is locked." Sam's voice came through the phone with only mild irritation.

"Okay, okay." turning to Dean, who was still chuckling at your greeting, "You have to put pants on, Sammy is melting in the rain."

"Shut up." was all Sam said befor hanging up.

You were in the shower and Dean was dressed when Sam knocked on the door, unwilling to have another scarring imagine emblazoned on his brain. As you walked, out dressed in jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt, you heard Sam, "So get this."

_Oh here we go!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time writing smut... And discovered it's harder than expected to get that down on paper (or screen, whatever.)


	14. Secrets

"So get this." Sam said getting everyone's attention, "That hotel in Bisbee? Two people were found dead there last night."

"So, we'll head out now, take care of Mary and then book it to Bisbee." Dean said as he started shoving things into his duffle.

"Just can't wait to take out Mary, can you Winchester?" you teased.

Sam headed to the front desk to check out while you and Dean loaded the Impala. "How do we take out Mary?" Sam asked as you all climbed into the car and Dean sped quickly toward Toledo.

"Her mirror. Y'all summoned her to her mirror, broke it and released her. Then made her face herself. She sort of self destructed." you explained. "I'm not sure who's going to summon her now, I know the secret."

"What secret? What are you talking about?" Dean asked, slightly irritated.

"Mary doesn't just kill anyone. Mary Worthington, our Mary, she spent her dying moments trying to expose her killers secret. Now in the afterlife, when she's summoned by someone in the town her mirror is in, she's killing people who have a secret where someone died. Any of us have that kind of secret that no one knows anything about?" you explained exactly how Mary worked.

"Who's secret did we use before?" Dean couldn't imagine any of them keeping a fatal secret from each other.

"Mine." Sam muttered quietly, "So, you know about that?"

"Yeah, Sammy. I know. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have stopped it." you tried to help him understand.

"What the hell man? What happened?" Dean wasn't keen on you knowing something about his little brother that he didn't, even if he was sure there were far more things that you and Sam kept between the two of you. 

"Dean we need to focus on how to summon Mary. You and Sammy can hash out the secret keeping thing later." you cut in, saving Sam the argument, "And really, do us all a favor, stop keeping secrets from each other! Ten years from now it will be the same song with a different tune!" 

Both of the men in the front seat shifted in their seats and exchanged looks that clearly said, 'Hannah knowing the future is kind of a pain in the ass.'

"Shut up, both of you! I'll call you two out on your shit from here to eternity."

"I didn't say anything." Sam claimed with innocent eyes. Dean just smirked.

"I don't miss all your silent conversations!"

"Fine, no more secrets." Sam acquiesced before explaining to Dean about his dreams of Jess dying that started long before the night she died and how guilty he felt for not warning her.

"Hannah's right Sammy, it's not your fault." Dean said as he parked the car in front of Estate Antiques.

"Let's do this." avoiding Dean's words, Sam got out of the car and headed for the door.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" the owner, Mr. Yamishiro asked.

Everyone exchanged quick glances, you hadn't really planned this part. With a little quick thinking and a smile Sam spoke first, "I'm looking for a wedding gift for my brother and his fiancée," he gestured to you and Dean, both of you suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

"I heard you have some of the most amazing mirrors." you gushed, trying to play your part in this charade. Turning to Dean you wrapped an arm around him and continued, "Don't you think a mirror would be great over the fire place, honey?"

Trying to hide his chuckle at you playing home decorator, Dean cleared his throat before speaking, "Sure, sweetie. Anything you like."

"Smart man." Mr. Yamishiro quipped.

"She is better at decision making. Except marrying you, that one is questionable." Sam teased and ducked the swat Dean aimed at the back of his head. However, he was firmly smacked in the chest with the back of your hand as you gave him the 'pull it together man!' look. Two misbehaving Winchesters was not something you wanted to deal with at the moment. 

"We have many beautiful mirrors. Anything in particular you're looking for?" Mr. Yamishiro asked as he began leading you through the store and past many antique mirrors. You described some of the features of Mary's mirror, hoping to find it faster. "I think I have just the thing. It just came in a few days ago, haven't even got it out on the floor yet. Please, follow me."

The man lead you all to the storage room at the back of the store and straight to Mary's mirror.

"It's perfect!" you exclaimed with the most sincere enthusiasm you could muster.

"You have wonderful taste, madam." Mr. Yamishiro declared, "What do you gentlemen think?"

"If it's what she wants, then I guess it's the one." Dean said and Sam nodded in agreement.

"Wonderful! I haven't finished appraising the piece, but I'd be willing to make you a good deal. $4,000."

Dean's eyes almost fell out of his head, "$4,000? For a mirror?"

"Hannah, are you sure this is what you want?" Sam looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"It is exactly what I was looking for, but I guess that is a bit steep. I can always find something else." feigning reluctance at the high price, you gave a sad smile before looking at Sam and starting to walk away. 

Fearing the loss of a sale, Mr. Yamishiro began negotiating. Between Sam's quick thinking and Dean's charm, after 30 minutes the three of you walked out with Mary's mirror.

"I can't believe we just maxed out that card on this. I just got that card!" Dean whined.

"You can get a new one, Dean. Now, who's summoning Mary?" you tried to stay focused.

"Why don't we all summon her together? One of us has to have some secret that she'll come after. Right?" Sam reasoned.

Both boys looked at you looking for a flaw in the plan, "I don't know guys. If she doesn't come after us, we could put someone else in danger." An uneasy silence settled over the room.

"I'll do it. She'll come after me."

"What the hell are you talking about Dean?" Sam snapped at his brother, you simply stared at Dean with wide eyes.

Without another word, Dean stood before Mary's mirror and took a deep breath before he started, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary." he hesitated and shot you a sad smile. "Bloody Mary."

Within moments Mary was staring out of her mirror, but her attention was trained on you as excruciating pain surged through your body and blood started dripping from your eyes. Sam smashed the mirror while Dean raced to your side. Mary crawled from her mirror and continued to inflict pain, but now freed from the confines of her mirror, she was attacking all of you. In a moment of clarity, Dean flipped the motel mirror up from it's place waiting on the floor, for Mary to catch her own reflection and confront herself for the people she had killed.

"What the hell?" Dean asked looking down in to your eyes as you laid out catching your breath.

"I don't know." was the only response you had. Clearly, someone's death was on your hands but you had no recollection of who, when or how.

The next morning everyone was climbing in to the Impala after breakfast, ready to head to Bisbee. You stopped short of getting in and looked at the bus station across the street. "Umm, guys?" you started as you pulled your bag from the back seat and slung it over your shoulder, "I'm gonna catch a bus back to Bobby's. I just…" your voice trailed off.

"Hannah, if it's about Mary, we're hunters. There's always someone that we," Sam started trying to reason with you as Dean just held a blank look on his face, but you didn't miss the clenching of his jaw.

Cutting Sam off you spoke firmly, "I'm going back to Bobby's. When you guys get back, we've got about a week to relax before the phantom traveler." without another word you crossed the street and walked in to the bus station.

Looking at each other over the roof of the Impala, Sam spoke first "What do you think her secret is?"

"I dunno, Sammy. I didn't think we had any secrets."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at his brother in question.

"Well, not any of those kind of secrets." shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh, "so, Bisbee. Let's go dig a grave."

With a half smile, Sam joined Dean in the Impala and they took off for Bisbee, Arizona.


	15. Not Again

It had been a week since the boys watched you walk into the bus station. Taking down the ghost hadn't been easy. There was only one set of bones to burn, but there were indeed three ghosts. The Winchester's worked quickly, both eager to get back to Bobby's to check on you. You had responded to a few texts, but always with short one or two word answers and now they hadn't heard a peep from you in two days. They knew you weren't in trouble, Bobby would have gotten a hold of them, but you clearly needed some cheering up.

Pulling in to the drive way and seeing your car, they quickly made their way to the door to see you, their bags could wait. Before either man could knock, Bobby opened the door and looked at them skeptically.

"Where's Hannah?" Bobby barked at them, giving each an accusatory look.

Dean was in shock, he couldn't lose you again.

"She got on a bus in Toledo, headed back here." Sam started to explain, Bobby's face relaxed a little, "But that was a week ago."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as he stormed back out to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***One week earlier***

Walking in to the bus station and heading to the counter, you tried not to shake, to not think about what you might have done and just didn't remember. Before you reached the counter you sat down and hung your head almost between your knees.

Is this a panic attack? I can't breath. What did I do? What's going on? My heart is going to explode.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" an unpleasantly saccharine and uncomfortably familiar voice asked. Your head snapped up to be met with Meg's malicious grin, your throat got tight and you couldn't call out or breath. The lack of air weakened your already panic stricken self. It took very little of Meg's demonic abilities to usher you stealthily out the side door and into a waiting van. As she slammed the door closed and climbed into the front seat you barely made out she was talking as you slipped into the dark of unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You lost her? Again!" anger poured out of every pore on Bobby's body.

"I screwed up okay! You think I don't know that Bobby?" Dean yelled.

Seeing that he was to be the only voice of reason, Sam stepped in, "Hannah can handle herself, she doesn't need someone to keep track of her. None of this fighting and placing blame is going to find her. I called Dad, he's in Ohio and said he'd check out the bus station and ask around about her." Bobby and Dean both looked at Sam as their anger boiled down to a simmer, "We'll get her back."

"Any idea who has her?" Bobby was barely keeping his tone restrained.

"She said Azazel had a daughter, Meg. If I had to guess, I'd say Meg took her." Dean winced with each mention of Meg's name.

"A daughter? Let's check for demonic omens around Toledo." focusing on finding Hannah, Bobby was able to calm his anger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*** 6 days ago***

When you finally came to, your body was achy and stiff. You quickly tried to asses the situation. You weren't in much pain, so no real damage had been dished out. The room seemed to be a small cabin, the smell of rain and pine surrounded the place. The chair you were snuggly duct taped to was placed in the middle of the main room, there were only three doors leading out of the room. The one directly in front of you clearly led outside. The other two were to your right and seemed to be a bedroom and a bathroom from what you could make out. The couch had been shoved to the wall in between the doors to make room for the dining chair you were strapped to in the center of the room. On your left was a fireplace with a roaring fire, at least you got to be warm. Although the flame did little to cut through the chill of duct tape pulling with each move you made. There was a low coffee table between you and the door and stuffed chair in the corner to the left of the door. Twisting as best you could, you made out a round dining table with three chairs still around it and beyond that a simple kitchenette.

The only sounds that reached your ears were the crackle of the fire, chirping of birds, dripping of rain water and wind blowing through leaves. Until the door opened revealing Meg.

"Oh, good. You're awake. I was starting to think we'd never get to play. My patience was running out, but now." she smirked as she closed the door and walked over to the kitchenette, letting her hand drift across your shoulder as she passed, "Now, I have all the patience in the world to draw this out." She stood in front you smiling and in her hand was a small silver blade glowing from the firelight.

"Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus," you started quickly rattling off the exorcism you had memorized.

"Really?" Meg scoffed turning to the mantel grabbing the duct tape.

You continued faster, trying to finish what you'd started, "omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,"

Meg was struggling to get off a strip of the tape as the Latin pouring from you mouth started to affect her.

"omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facisa liber-" before you could finish, the shining silver adhesive was smashed across your face, pulling the skin tight and muffling any sound you tried to produce.

"Can't have you ending our fun so soon, sugar." Meg cooed as she added a second layer of duct tape to your mouth and carried this one all the way around your head. "You and your little friends killed my father! I'm going to have so much fun drawing this out."

You rolled you eyes and huffed. How cliché Meg!

"I wonder how your little boy toy will feel when he finally finds you. All cut to ribbons and burned, knowing how badly you suffered. Imagining you calling out for his help and he never came to save you. Because, sugar, those boys won't find you alive. I promise you that."

You snorted at her monologuing, Great, she's gonna bore me to death!

Without another word, Meg began cutting in to your biceps. Some were shallow, some deep, some more stab like than cut. You breathed deep and refused to grant her the satisfaction of hearing your muffled screams, swallowing each one down with as little reaction as possible.

"You are a tough one. Have to be, I suppose, to endure the crap the Winchester's bring with them." Meg spoke in a calm and even manner, like she wasn't in the process of torturing someone. Pulling the fireplace poker from the flames it had been sitting in, she turned to you again, pointing the red hot poker from one area of your body to another, "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo." with her last word, Meg drove the poker into the top of your thigh, forcing it down until it hit bone.

As you began to thrash and scream against your restraints, Meg chuckled, "Thata girl. Let it out." she pulled the poker out of the cauterized wound and jabbed it in to your torso, slightly below your rib cage.

Dean. The one pleading word was your final thought before the pain over whelmed you and you slipped into the peaceful darkness once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm sorry, Dean. No one remembers seeing her with anyone but you and Sam." John's voice carried through the speaker of Dean's cell phone. "I've got a lead on some demons in Oregon, I'll see if I can get anything out of them."

"Really Dad? Hannah's missing and you're just gonna work a case?" without waiting for an answer, Dean hung up on John.

"Nothing helpful I take it?" Bobby assumed correctly.

"He's heading to Oregon." Dean scrubbed his hand over his face, "Where is she, Bobby? Maybe. Maybe, it's not a demon. Maybe she…"

"She didn't just take off, Dean."

"Sam's right." Bobby looked at Dean, "Look, about what I said."

"Don't Bobby. You're right, she's gone again on my watch."

"So get this!" Sam suddenly popped up from his laptop. "Video surveillance from the alley next to the bus station." everyone crowded around the screen as Sam played the video, "There's a van and all I can make out are two pairs of womens boots from this angle, but…"

"Those are Hannah's boots." Dean cut in. "Van has Washington plates, let's go."

All three men grabbed the bare necessities and climbed in to the Impala, speeding toward Washington state as Sam continued using his laptop to track the van, demonic omens and anything he possibly could to find a hint of where you were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*** 4 days ago***

"Three days and those boys haven't even started looking for you. Bet they're glad to be rid of you, sugar, you're dead weight." Meg slashed another gash across your chest.

The sun was setting as Meg continued her torture. Over the last 4 days she had cut and burned you numerous times. Your top was in shreds and your jeans destroyed, the tape holding you to the chair was almost completely severed, but between the pain and blood loss you didn't have the strength to attempt to get away. Bruises formed over much of your flesh from where she had beat you with the fireplace poker, chains and a bat. One blow had struck your head and blood dripped over your eye from the gash it caused. Several ribs were broken, as well as both legs and one arm. Wishing for death had long since replaced your desire to be rescued.

Sitting in the chair by the door wiping blood from her hands, Meg continued the psychological portion of her torture. You tuned her out, it was the only way to cope. The first 2 days you could roll your eyes and ignore her attempts to break your spirit. Now so exhausted from the physical pain, you began to wonder if she was right if you allowed yourself to listen to her words.

"Listen to me, bitch!" the back of Meg's hand smacked across your face, knocking the last of the tape loose from the skin, leaving it to dangle from your hair.

"No." you croaked, throat sore from strain and dry from lack of water. You sounded weak and broken despite your choice of words.

"Oh, how cute. My little huntress thinks she's tough." her fist connected with your jaw before Meg left the cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The stuff in Oregon is the only demonic activity I can find. And the van was stolen from Walla Walla, Washington." Sam announced as Dean sped down the road.

"Are we sure Meg took her back to Washington?" Bobby chimed in from the backseat.

"It's the only lead we have." was Dean's grumbled response.

Bobby and Sam exchanged sad glances, but said nothing else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*** Present Day ***

The floor under your chair was sticky from the pool of blood beneath you. Pain had given way to a cold, numbness and your lucid moments were few and short. Getting out of this alive was a pipe dream.

 _Gabriel_ , you'd been praying for his help for 2 days with every bit of consciousness you could muster, _I'm not getting out of this alive. Please watch over Dean and Sam for me._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hiya fellas!"

The car swerved, "What the hell? Who are you? What are you?" Dean barked at the sudden intruder in his car.

"I'm hurt, my little Hannah Banana didn't tell you about me?"

"Gabriel?" eyes wide, Sam gawked at the angel sitting next to Bobby.

"The one and only." Gabriel smirked.

"Where is she?" Dean growled as he looked in to the rearview mirror.

"A cabin in the woods north of Idanha, in Oregon. She's in rough shape guys, I can't get to her. The whole place is warded, but I can hear her prayers. It's not good."

Dean's foot pressed harder on the accelerator as he sped toward the small Oregon town as Gabriel snapped his fingers and disappeared from sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't have the strength to will yourself to live longer, you were giving up. Even the gentle click and scrapping sound behind you couldn't get your attention. The quiet foot steps never registered. The hand that quickly covered your mouth to muffle the scream that couldn't come barely caught your attention. It wasn't Meg, it was a large masculine hand. Rough stubble tore at the marred flesh of your cheek as a voice registered in your ear. The words were undecipherable through the ringing of the pain raging through every fiber of your being. Despite the familiarity of the voice, it brought you no comfort.

"Well, well. The cavalry has arrived. I really thought you'd be the last one to come save Hannah. This pretty little show was for Dean, let him see his girl all torn up and dead. Then kill him and the big one." Meg stood calmly leaning against the door frame. Turning her attention to you she pouted, "Sugar, looks like ol' John boy has crashed our party. What should we do with him?"

"Let her go." John's voice was calm but firm.

"Not gonna happen." she chuckled and with the flick of her hand, slammed him into a wall. Pinning him tight. "See, I'm still waiting for the boys. I'm waiting to see the light drain from their eyes as I bleed the last bits of life from this sweet little thing here. Then once they're entirely broken and my fun is all over, a bullet to the brain for each of them. Just because I can."

John continued to struggle against the invisible force holding him to the wall. Sputtering curses and threats against her. A horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, you were already dead, he was sure of it. He had arrived too late.

You sat slumped in the chair, blood dripping slowly from several wounds, your head hung, chin pressed to your chest. Not one movement from your body, not one sign of life showed to any eyes that looked upon you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling up to a tree fallen across the dirt road, Dean killed the engine. Everyone climbed out of the car and started heading the last mile down the road, duffles loaded with every bit of demon killing weaponry they could pull from the trunk.

"Dean, she doesn't want us to use the colt against Meg." Sam continued his attempt to persuade Dean to leave the colt behind.

"Tough shit. Hannah is in trouble, I'm getting her back. By any means necessary. She can fight with me about it later, when she's alive and safe." there was no room for negotiation in Dean's words.

Just as the cabin came in to view, Gabriel reappeared. "Look fellas," he started quietly.

"Shut up. She's fine, she's going to be fine!" Dean cut off whatever news Gabriel was about to report. Looking up at the cabin, he caught a glimpse of you slumped in a chair and his father pinned to the wall. Meg stood next to your chair, talking to John. "Son of bitch." he muttered under his breath.

Quickly, a plan was formed and everyone was in place ready to strike. Bobby covered the back door. Since the cabin was warded against angels, Gabriel laid a salt circle around the entire building and then paced anxiously. Sam and Dean slowly approached the porch to lead the attack. With everyone in place, they all readied for the attack.

Dean moved first, kicking in the door and trying not to focus on your body drooping lifelessly in the chair as he aimed the colt at Meg's chest. The shock of his entrance broke Meg's concentration causing her to drop her hold on John, who dropped to the floor gasping for breath. Sam stepped through the door next, tossing holy water on Meg.

Before Bobby could make it in through the back door, Meg had flung Sam out of the cabin and slammed all the doors shut. "Hey there pretty boy. Look at your little princess here. Shame you couldn't have made it sooner. You could have seen her last breath."

"Shut up, bitch." Dean growled from where he was held against the door, the colt laying at his feet.

Meg continued to calmly berate Dean for letting you die a slow and painful death at her hand. So lost in her vocal torture of Dean, she forgot John was still in the room. Finally gaining his strength, John pulled himself up and hurled his body against Meg's, sending them both through the front window and rolling off the porch on to the ground.

Now outside the warded cabin, Gabriel joined the fray with his angel blade at the ready. Sam stood off to the side trying to recite the exorcism ritual while dodging blows. John and Bobby we're both doing their best to assist Gabe's attacks on Meg, though two mortal hunters were little help to an archangel. Several solid blows were landed by each side. Gabriel absorbed many of Meg's most brutal attacks, saving the hunters who fought along side him.

A final toss of holy water across Meg's face slowed her enough for Gabe to get in a fatal jab with his angel blade. Meg's body crumpled to the ground and Gabriel collapsed next to her. Brushing a chunk of hair from her face he whispered, "Sorry, sweet pea." as the true soul of Meg Master's briefly flashed in her eyes before she passed into the veil.

Groaning and panting from exertion, all four men looked around. "Where's Dean?" Sam managed out between gasps.

The group bolted to the cabin, Gabriel was left standing on the porch as the others entered the room. All eyes fell to Dean seated on the floor in front of the fireplace. Your lifeless body was draped across his lap, head pulled up to his chest. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as blood soaked his clothes. Looking up at the family standing before him, he just shook his head before burying a kiss in your hair as a sob escaped his lips. Finally his gaze fell to Gabriel, standing up with your body held bridal style in his arms, he walked slowly and quietly to stand before the archangel. As he moved across the room every one tried to ignore the odd twist in your limbs or the unnatural way you were turned.

"Help her." Dean growled as Gabriel backed further from the door and Dean brought you out to the porch.

"I don't… I can't. I can't even heal myself. Bringing Hannah back, any other time would be a piece of cake, b-but even archangels have limits."

"Bring her back!" the roar of Dean's words echoed through the forest as he glared at the angel.

"I can't, Dean-o! You think I want to let her go?" Gabriel raised his voice defensively. One sharp glare and deep growl from Dean and Gabriel was hanging his head walking away, unable to even fly off with the snap of his fingers.

Dean carried your body back into the cabin and laid you on the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed willing you to show some sign of life. Bobby, Sam and John all set about cleaning up the bloody mess and starting a funeral pyre for Meg's corpse. Once all the clean up was done, Sam walked back into the bedroom and opened his mouth to speak. Dean cut him off with a low and steady voice, "Leave me alone."

The three men standing at the door all knew the pain Dean was feeling. The deep ache of losing the woman you love and the hole it left behind. They wouldn't wish it on an enemy and they'd have done anything to protect those they hold dear from knowing the pain. Listening to Dean's quiet plea, all three men walked out of the cabin and decided to give him some time alone.

After a few words were exchanged, Sam and Bobby started the walk back to the Impala and John headed around back to another path leading to his truck. Sam and Bobby were going to pick up supplies and John was off to finish tracking down the other demons in the area to wrap up his hunt.


	16. Not Always What They Seem

Returning to the cabin a few hours later with food from the small diner the next town over and some beer, Bobby and Sam entered the cabin quietly. As they sat the food on the table, Dean walked out of the bathroom. His red rimmed eyes and drawn face revealed the state he was in.

"Where's Dad?'' Dean inquired noticing his absence.

"Said there was another demon to track down, took off to find it." Sam tried to break the news of John taking off gently, "Got burgers and beer."

"Not hungry." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Well, I'm starving. There better be onion rings." a voice rang out clearly through the room. All three men whipped their heads around to take in the source of the familiar sound. Standing in the doorway of the cabins bedroom was a sight none of them expected.

Not a scratch, mark or speck of blood was on your body. Every bone was perfectly healed and you showed no sign of having endured a week of torture. The only things out of place were the strip of duct tape clinging to your hair and the shredded remains of your clothing trying to cling to your body. All three men were instantly on edge.

"Dean, what did you do?" Bobby asked.

"Nothing." Dean deadpanned, "She was dead when I left the room."

"Then how is she?" Sam gestured to you standing near the table pulling the tape from your hair before digging through the bags of food.

Sighing in frustration you looked at Sam, "Really, Sammy? My onion rings. You forgot my onion rings." Before another word could slip passed your lips, water was splashed across your face. Drying your eyes, you were met with the sight of Bobby with his flask in hand. "Not a demon. Guys are we really doing this? Again?"

"Five minutes ago you were dead, Hannah!" Dean yelled.

"Okay. I was gonna eat first, because I haven't eaten in a fucking week," you started, shoving a few fries into your mouth, "but let's do this now. Which one of you morons did it?"

"What?" the confusion in Bobby's voice was clear.

"Who made the deal! Tell me now, so I can kick their ass!" you barely restrained yourself from screaming at the three men who meant the most to you. Thinking of losing any of them because they brought you back made your stomach turn.

Each man glanced from one to the other, shaking their heads. No one confessing to making the deal. You gave each a hard look, but couldn't find any tell that revealed one of them to be lying.

"Fine." you huffed passing out burgers and fries to everyone, "I'll figure it out and rip you a new one when I do!"

Everyone ate in silence, exchanging quick glances and unsure what to say. Dean finally broke the silence, "Apple pie, I'm so sorry we didn't get here sooner."

"Me too. Now one of you morons made a deal and I'm gonna have to build a funeral pyre because y'all just wouldn't let me go." anger still quietly boiled behind your quiet words, "So, how'd Bisbee go?"

Dean just stared at you as Sam began recounting the tale, "We got the bones burned no problem the first night in town. Second night we checked out the hotel to be sure. Turns out all three miners were haunting the damn place. Took us awhile to find what they were tied to. But we go 'em. Then headed to Bobby's."

"Glad that got done." you tried to sound convincing but couldn't manage to pull it off. You wanted to know who brought you back, who made the deal. Worse than knowing that a deal was made, was knowing that one of them was lying to you.

Silence settled over the cabin, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone wanted the answer that wasn't being offered up and suspicion was drifting through every mind around the table. Was it a demon deal? Did Gabriel do something? Was the Hannah that came back after New Orleans entirely human? Was it something else that none of them had even thought up yet?

The sudden ringing of Dean's phone broke the silence. "Hello?" he did his best to focus on the call as joy to have Hannah back mixed with the lingering pain of losing her and fear of how she was brought back.

"Jerry? Oh oh, yeah. The poltergeist in Kittanning, Pennsylvania. It's not back is it?" you shook your head knowing the answer.

"Our phantom traveler?" Sam asked softly, gesturing to the phone. Nodding your head you turned your attention back to Dean and his call.

"Umm," Dean hesitated looking at you. With a small smile and nod you urged him to make the right choice, "It'll take us about two days to get there." was all Dean said before hanging up.

"Wouldn't happen to have my duffle would ya?" you posed the question to the entire room, "Riding around in my own blood doesn't sound like tons of fun."

Sam handed you the bag, it had been by the back door. Meg had clearly rummaged through it and several weapons were missing, but your clothes and toiletries were still there. A quick glance around the room revealed all the missing weapons, all with your blood dried on to some portion of them. Tears flooded your eyes in anger that Meg had used your own weapons against you. Grabbing your shower bag and some clothes you rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Turning on the water and being pleasantly surprised to find the spray hot, you stripped off your ruined clothing and climbed into the shower. Even after washing yourself from head to toe multiple times you still felt dirty. Cranking the hot water up full blast, you stood under the barely tolerable stream hoping to burn away the last of the filth you felt encompassing you.

When the hot water finally gave out, you moved slowly not ready to face then men waiting in the next room. Once you were finally dressed in jeans, black tank top and a purple and black plaid button up with wool socks and your favorite brown cowboy boots, you combed out your hair and pulled it up into a ballerina bun. Then you began brushing your teeth, messing with your hair, adjusting your clothes and picking at the chipped turquoise polish left on your nails. Anything to avoid leaving the room and facing the looks that awaited. You were a freak, you were supposed to be dead and now someone else was going to die in your place.

Once you'd run out of things to do, you walked out of the bathroom and began packing your duffle back how you like. Folding your clothes and checking your first aid kit before placing them where you always kept them. Cleaning your weapons and putting them back in their place, Dean tried to help but you snapped at him, "I can do it myself!"

Hands raised in a placating gesture, Dean stepped back and then walked out to join Bobby and Sam on the porch. "Which one of you did it? I know it wasn't me. It should have been me. I should've brought her back!" Dean ranted at them.

"We didn't do anything Dean. Just got burgers, beer and some supplies." Sam calmly explained.

"If it wasn't us and it wasn't you," Bobby joined the conversation, "then who, or what, brought her back?"

"Good question." your presence in the doorway with your duffle over your shoulder startled them, "I'm not convinced it wasn't one of you, but say it wasn't, then how the hell am I here? I can tell you every demon and monster we'll face over the next ten years, but this, this wasn't in the cards. This isn't something… damn it!" walking down the steps and looking around the forest, arms stretched wide you started screaming, "Gabriel! Get your ass down here! NOW! God damn it Gabe, don't make me ask again or I'll trap your ass in holy fire and leave you!"

"Hannah?" Gabriel's voice was quiet, "How did you get back here? Why are you alive?"

"I don't fucking know Gabriel! Why do you think I'm calling you?" your screaming continued.

"I thought maybe you wanted to chat."

"Don't fucking sass me Gabriel! How. Am. I. Alive?"

"Pretty sure I asked you first." Gabe couldn't stop himself.

With a huff you started walking down the path, "You guys coming to Pennsylvania or you gonna continue the family bonding camping trip?" you called over your shoulder. Hearing four sets of boots following behind you, you called out again, "Not you Gabe. If I have to listen to your sass and shit, so help me God…" you trailed off as you felt a hand grab your arm.

"Okay. First of all, Dad isn't going to be any help." Gabriel started, this time without any joke or jest in his tone, "Second, I don't plan on following you around, you're entourage seems large enough." a small spark of humor lit his tone, "But mostly, I want you to have this. Think you're going to need it." He held out his hand and placed the handle of a blade in your hand.

"No, Gabriel. You need this."

"Not mine. Let's not talk about where it came from." he smirked and you shook your head. Looking up from the blade in your hand, Gabriel was gone.

"So, what's that?" Sam asked.

"Angel blade." you stated very matter of factly, "The best weapon on the entire planet. Can kill damn near anything: angels, demons, reapers, hellhounds."

Reaching the Impala everyone tossed their things in the trunk and started getting into the car. Bobby was in the back behind the driver seat, already slouched down with his hat tipped over his eyes ready to sleep. Dean shot Sam a look as they made their way to opposite sides of the car, then he glanced at you before dropping his eyes to the keys in his hand.

"Hannah, why don't you take the front. I'm gonna take a nap and Dean's gonna need someone to keep him awake." Sam opened the passenger door for you to climb in.

"Thanks Sammy." you muttered as you climbed into the car. The secret keeping had put you in a very sour mood. Having died didn't help that.

The ride was quiet. Sam and Bobby slept soundly in the back seat, the occasional snore or strange throat noise coming from one or the other. You and Dean didn't know what to say to each other or to anyone else. Emotions were running high, you had died, come back and no one had any answers.

Reaching Boise, Dean stopped for gas. You stood outside the car looking around as Dean filled baby's tank and Bobby and Sam kept sleeping. It didn't take long for Dean to notice you fidgeting and restless, "What's wrong apple pie?"

"Nothing." you tried to sound calm.

After returning the nozzle to the pump and securing the gas cap, Dean made his way over to you. "Really?"

With a sigh and the shuffle of your feet across the dirt you quietly started speaking, "I'm pissed. I've never been afraid of anything,"

"Except mice." Dean interjected.

"Fine, except mice. Now.." with a deep breath you forced the words out of your mouth, "Now, I have to pee and I'm scared to go into the gas station alone." You were on the verge of tears by the end of your confession.

"Come here," arms wrapped around you gently, Dean whispered in your ear, "Nothing wrong with being a little shaken up, apple pie. Most people would be an absolute wreck, you're strong babe. Give yourself time." He squeezed a bit tighter.

"Don't squeeze! I'll piss myself!" you squealed.

"Let's get you inside." Dean chuckled as he escorted you into the gas station. He stopped at the counter to pay but realized you hadn't continued toward the bathroom. "Come on, I'll get sodas." You smiled, looking up to note that the soda machine was right next to the bathroom door. Nodding slightly, you continued to the bathroom.

When you came out Dean was just finishing filling sodas. As you both made your way to the register, you filled your arms with candy bars, gummies, chips and jerky. As you plopped your arm load of treats on the counter Dean laughed, "What, no twinkies?"

"Gross! Buuuut," you leaned passed him and grabbed a few packages, "Hostess does make the best damn cupcakes!" Noticing Dean's raised eyebrow at your pile of snacks you spoke defensively, "I'm hungry."

"That's my girl. You're sharing the gummi bears, right?" he asked as he helped carry the bags the to the car.

"Maybe, Winchester." you smirked.

Back on the road, you and Dean carried on light conversation and playfully fought over snacks. Amid the laughter and gummi fight, there was a sudden movement out the corner of your eye. Suddenly Sam had the bag of gummies held in his teeth and was tickling you mercilessly. Dean's laughter echoed through the car as you tried to beg Sam to stop, despite the struggle to take a breath.

"Buncha idjits." Bobby grumbled as he tried to stretch his stiff muscles.

"Oh, come on Bobby. You don't mean that, we're amazing." the teasing tone in your voice brought a smile to the gruff old man's face.

The ride continued to be light and fun. Somewhere in East Nebraska there was yet another stop for gas, bathroom breaks and snacks.

"Sammy, you drive. I need a nap." Dean yawned and tossed the keys to Sam.

"You should sleep too, Hannah." Sam said looking at you sitting in the back seat with Dean's head in your lap and the largest coffee in existence in your hand.

"Okay, Samsquatch, I'll get right on that one." you snarked.

Shaking his head and exchanging a look with Bobby, Sam started the car. "You okay, Hanny?"

"No worries, Sam I am. Brains just to busy to sleep. Too much to figure out."

"Anything I can help with?" he offered.

"Tell me how I'm alive. If none of you made a deal, how am I here?"

"Hannah," Bobby cut in to the conversation, "We don't know."

Silence settled over the car and the final stretch of the ride was beginning to look unpleasantly long, until an idea occurred to you. "We have to figure out how to get this demon without getting on the plane." you brushed your fingers through Dean's hair as he slept.

"Well, tell us what we're up against, how we would handle it without your brilliance and why not getting on a plane is important." Sam requested with a glance in the rearview mirror.

"Sammy want a story?" you asked in a baby talk voice and then with a deep breath, you began to explain what you knew.


	17. Deja Vu

"Okay, I understand the demon, the exorcism, trying to get him before he's on the plane, but I don't get why you're so freaked about getting on a plane." Sam spoke as he drove over the Pennsylvania state line. You had spent several hours recounting everything you knew about the case and retelling many portions once Dean woke up. Even pointing out that both boys were wrong about the suits, Dean did not look like one of the Blues Brothers nor did he resemble a 7th grader at his first dance, Dean looked damn good in that monkey suit.

"I'm not freaked. I-it… It's just important." you were too exhausted to think quickly. Dean shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to you.

"I'd say you're afraid to fly, but you're not. You've flown several places, no big deal." Bobby was trying to figure out the enigma as well.

Looking in the rearview mirror and shifting his gaze from you to Dean, realization hit him. "Wait, Hannah's not afraid to fly, but,"

"Shut up, Sammy. At least I'm not afraid of clowns!" Dean defended himself.

"Both of you shut up," Bobby said in stern, hushed tone. "Hannah's finally falling asleep."

Your head bobbed and you shot up, "Dean!" panting and gasping, sweat beading on your forehead.

"What's wrong, apple pie?" concern filled his voice, "I'm right here."

Throwing yourself into his arms and sobbing, you hit one fist against his chest and words found their way out between sobs, "Don't ever let me fall asleep, damn it."

"Babe, you have to sleep. I'm right here," Dean ran a hand up and down your arm in a soothing gesture, "I'll take care of you." As he continued to hold you and rub your back, murmuring softly you settled against him, "You're not sleeping, can't fool me. I've got ya babe, sleep."

"Sing." you said, snuggling in closer to him. Sam and Bobby tried to stifle their laughter as Dean groaned. "Please." you pleaded, breaking his resolve.

Softly he began to sing, "So close no matter how far, couldn't be much more from the heart, forever trusting who we are, and nothing else matters."

"Metallica? Really, Dean?" Sam scoffed. Dean continued to sing, ignoring his brother.

"Good song." came your sleepy defense of Dean's song choice. Truth was, he couldn't have picked a better song. It was the song that came on the radio right after Dean asked you out on an actual date the first time, it had been playing the first time you kissed Dean, it had ended just as Dean pulled up to the house to face Bobby after the first time you had stayed out all night with him. Fate had managed to play that song at every moment that drew you and Dean closer, this time was no different. You drifted off feeling the rumble of his chest as he sang softly to you.

"I'll be damned." knowing how stubborn you were, Bobby couldn't believe you'd relented and gone to sleep so easily.

Sam sat quietly, glancing at Dean and you curled up in the back seat. He had never seen his brother like this with anyone and it made him think of how things had been for him and Jess.

After awhile, quiet conversation filled the car as the men passed the time on the last leg of the trip to Kittanning. None of them could figure out a good plan to avoid boarding the plane and Dean wasn't looking forward to that prospect. They spoke in hushed tones to avoid waking you and too soon Sam was pulling the car up to the air port where they were supposed to meet Jerry.

Sitting up and stretching, you took in your surroundings and spoke through a yawn, "Where's Bobby?"

"Dropped him off at a motel." Dean said almost dismissively, "So, what's the plan?"

"Let's just go talk to Jerry." you suggested and waited for the boys to take the lead. As they both headed in, you lagged behind a bit watching things unfold. You listened to them talk about the poltergeist in Jerry's house, the way John had talked about Sam, it was exactly like it had been in the show and that made you smile. Some things never change, both a comforting and frightening thought.

Then Jerry turned to look at you, "And you must be Hannah."

"Uh, yeah." the raised eyebrow you shot Dean wasn't missed by anyone.

Unsure if he had crossed a line, Jerry spoke again, "Well, uh, Dean couldn't stop talking about you."

"Really?" smiling at Dean and nudging him with your shoulder you teased, "What kind of horrible lies did he tell?" Sam and you laughed and soon Jerry was joining in. Dean just shook his head and continued on toward Jerry's office.

Once Jerry had filled you guys in on what had happened and told you all he knew, the boys had asked questions and you were all standing to leave you looked back at Jerry, "Oh, and Jerry, keep Chuck on the ground until we're done."

The puzzled look on Jerry's face prompted Sam to speak up, "Just trust her."

 

**********************************************************************************************

Two days later, the three of you were preparing to board the plane. Nothing had worked to draw the demon out before the flight attendant Amanda's first time back on the job. Sam got the tickets while you tried not to snap at Dean as he dug his nails in to your hand and spoke softly to him trying to keep him calm. Which was a losing battle. On the ground he had been tense but tolerable. After take off things took a turn for the worse, he was panicked at best.

"You should have just stayed with Bobby." Sam muttered shaking his head at your attempts to calm Dean down.

"Right, like I was just gonna sit back and let my little brother and my girl get on a plane that's about to crash." Dean snapped out in a harsh whisper.

"Damn it, Dean. You need to calm the fuck down." handing Sam the holy water and basic exorcism ritual, "You take care of the co-pilot, I'll deal with Dean."

With a half smile and a nod, he grabbed the supplies and headed back to talk to Amanda and get the co-pilot.

"Sam's right, we should have stayed on the ground and let him handle this one."

"What? Hannah, alone?"

"Dean, he's handling it alone right now because you can't get your shit together." pausing to think you leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "I'll make you a deal, calm yourself down and help Sammy and we can take advantage of this one time opportunity to join the mile high club."

He turned to look at you with wide eyes, "Seriously?" you just smiled as he hopped up from his seat and practically ran down the isle to help Sam. Meanwhile you kept an eye on the other passengers and flight attendants to make sure no one walked in on the middle of the exorcism.

A few moments later without any disturbance what so ever, Sam returned to his seat, "That exorcism went well."

"Somehow that seems like and entirely normal thing for someone to say. So, got him?" you checked.

"Yeah. How'd you calm Dean down? And where is he?" looking around Sam started to get out of his seat.

Pushing Sam back down in to his seat and getting up, you offered to find Dean yourself. Making your way to the back of the plane, you were suddenly pulled into one of the bathrooms. As the lock clicked you looked into the eyes before you. Barely had you registered the dazzling emerald that looked down at you before lips were crashed into yours and Dean's hands were roaming your body.

*****************************************************************************************************

Just as the captain turned on the seatbelt light and announced that you'd be landing, you and Dean returned to your seats. Hair mussed and clothes not quite straight.

Sam shook his head, "You two are unbelievable."

Once the plane had landed and a rental car was obtained you began the drive back to Kittanning. With Dean behind the wheel the drive only took a couple hours. Once back in Kittanning, you picked up Bobby and headed to the meet Jerry and give him the news.

After telling him the demon had been taken care of and that everything was cleared up, Dean had one question, "Hey Jerry, how'd you get my number? I've only had it like six months."

"You're old man gave it to me. Well, his voicemail said to call you." Jerry answered before turning to walk away.

Exchanging confused looks, Dean pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed John's number. The call went straight to voicemail and everyone listened to the message. The words were all too familiar to your ears and you couldn't understand why John was in the wind this time. At the end he left a set of numbers, the guys instantly recognized them as coordinates. Grabbing the map from the glove box, Sam looked them up.

"These coordinates make no sense. It's the middle of no where, back in Oregon." he explained still studying the map. "A few small towns near by, probably farming country. Why would he send us there? Why not call? I don’t get it."

Before Sam was done speaking, everyone was in the car and on the road. Several thoughts swam through each mind, but no one would voice any thoughts about John. Frequently, Sam tried to call John's phone again and proceeded to call every number John had. The only stops made on the entire ride were for gas and a quick stop to drop Bobby off, another hunter had called to ask for Bobby's help with some research.

In record time, the Impala had crossed the country once again and was coming to a stop at the coordinates John had left. Sam had been right, farm country and only a few miles from the cabin where you had been tortured and killed. The sleek black car sat on the side of a gravel road, looking through the windshield you could see a barn in the distance, bare fields lying empty for the winter and directly in front of you, a crossroads.

Jumping from the car and running to the middle of the intersection you chanted, "No no no no no." as you hit your knees and began to dig, Dean and Sam got out of the car and walked over. They watched you pull a small metal box out of the shallow hole you had dug. "Fuck. No."

"What is it?" once more curiosity got the best of Sam.

"Crossroads deal? Dad wants us to save some moron who sold their soul?" Dean was going to continue until he noticed your raised eyebrow and remembered he would of made a deal to bring Sam back and that he had even come close to making a deal to find you when you'd gone missing and when you died, he was ready to deal as soon as he could will himself to leave your side.

"So, they have to put a picture in, right? Who are we supposed to fight hellhounds for?" the irritated tone of Sam's words grated on your nerves.

Squeezing your eyes shut trying to hold back tears, you took a deep breath and cracked the box open. Inside were all the usual contents to summon a crossroads demon, but there was also a little folded up piece of paper. "Damn it John!" you screeched in irritation as you pulled the paper from the box, letting the box drop from your hands as you continued to kneel in the gravel. Quickly unfolding the paper, you read the message that had been left with tears sliding down your cheeks.

Crouching to pick up the box Dean fished the picture out. It had been cut from an ID card, a Federal Marshall ID to be exact. Dean recognized the face instantly, "Son of a bitch!"

Sam snatched the picture from Dean's hand, "What the hell? Hannah, is that a note?" you just nodded and held the paper out to them. Grabbing it they both read it together.

_Hannah_   
_my boys need you_   
_Take care of them_   
_Don't try to find me_

Sobs caught in your throat. "W-Why w-w-would he" hiccups and silent sobs broke up your words, "do this?"

No one spoke for several minutes. Just standing around looking at each other and the fields around you. Finally, Dean moved, silently getting in to the car. You and Sam followed just as quietly. No one spoke, the radio was off, the only sound was the roar of the engine as Dean drove into town and stopped at the first bar he found. You jumped and were instantly on edge as a sound flooded into the air of the car before anyone could get out. With a sigh you relaxed as the familiar sound of Renegade by Styx filled your ears. Your phone, you were just scared by your own phone. Checking the screen you knew not answering was asking for trouble.

"Hey." the cold, flat tone of your voice sounded happier than you felt.

"I think I know who brought you back." Bobby's voice was rougher than usual as it came through the speaker.

"Yeah, already figured that one out Bobby." voice cracking and tears pooling in your eyes, you could hardly keep it together. John wasn't your favorite person, but you wouldn't wish this on your worst enemy.

"You three get your asses here, damn it!" the line went dead without another word from Bobby.

"Come on, Hannah." knocking on the roof Dean tried to coax you out of the car.

"We have to get to Bobby's. I think… He knew… Do you think…" you couldn't find the words to finish any of your thoughts.

Sam and Dean got back into the car and Dean sped towards Bobby's house once more. Everyone hoped for answers, hoped for 10 years, hoped for a chance to make things right with a dying man, hoped to be proven wrong.


	18. We've Got Work To Do

John was dead. He had traded his life for yours. Before his deal was sealed, he made one call. The message he left on Bobby's answering machine confirmed everything and ended with him telling you once again to take care of his boys.

No one had said much in the days since returning to Bobby's. Sam had spent hours with his nose in books trying to find a way to break the deal and get John back. Most of Dean's day was spent outside working on the Impala, it didn't really need much work but it was still how Dean coped with John's death. You stayed close to the house, did your best to not be alone because you were still rattled but you couldn't look Dean or Sam in the eye, their dad was dead because of you.

Finally accepting that you were honest that the deal couldn't be broken, Sam had traded the books for his laptop. Noticing his scrunched up eyebrows and the way he was clearly reading the same stuff over and over, you shot him a look asking what he'd found.

"It's probably nothing." Sam mumbled as Dean entered the room.

"What's nothing?" ready to get back to work, Dean wanted to decide for himself

Sam looked back to his laptop and began reading, "The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road." You shot up in your seat as Sam continued, "Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted" you began reciting the news piece along with Sam, "as saying the attacker was invisible."

"Sounds like something." Dean decided.

Sam tried to rationalize what he'd read, "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."

They both turned to look at you, expectant expressions on both their faces.

"Fuck, I forgot. After John. He wasn't supposed to." shaking your head and letting out a deep breath you started over, "It's not the Invisible Man."

"See? Nothing." Sam was spilt between happy to be right and disappointed to not have a case. Dean just shook his head and started to walk away.

"It's the Hookman." you spoke calmly, stopping Dean in his tracks.

Turning to face you with wide eyes, "The Hookman?"

"Yup. Better get going. I already slacked and now this guys dead." standing and heading to your room to pack, Sam's voice stopped you.

"Hannah, you can't save everyone and no one expects you too."

Without turning around you did your best to contain your self directed anger when you opened your mouth, "Right. Meg. Rich. John. Those are all on me, Sammy. I could have stopped them and I didn't. They're my fault."

"Apple pie." ignoring Dean's pleading tone you continued up the stairs. "Better get ready. Where we headed?"

"Ankeny, Iowa." Sam stated as he stood to get his things ready to go.

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************

Pulling into Ankeny and finding a motel near the college, everyone unloaded and settled into the room. Sam had grabbed food while you and Dean had checked in. Sitting around the table enjoying some of the best drive thru tacos you'd ever experienced, conversation turned to the case.

"So, Hookman. What do we got?" food fell from Dean's lips as he spoke around a mouth full of food.

"He's the ghost of,"

Sam cut you off, "Hookman is a ghost?"

"Yeah. The ghost of a preacher, Jacob Karns, he killed a bunch of hookers on 9 Mile Road. Now in the afterlife he still tries to abolish immoral behavior. There's been a whole string of religious leaders at St. Barnabas Church who Karns has latched on to and murdered those the men find to be immoral." you tried to quickly summarize the tale with as much detail as possible.

"So, he's feeding on the preachers repressed emotions?" Dean asked and you tried not to chuckled at the familiar words. "Tell me there are bones to burn."

"Yes and yes, but it's not that simple." both brothers looked at you expectantly. "There's also a necklace that Karns is tied to, it was made from his hook. This time it's not the preacher, it's the preachers daughter. She has the necklace."

"Awesome." sarcasm dripped from the single word Dean uttered and this time you couldn't contain the giggle.

"What?" Dean asked a bit annoyed.

"Nothing. Just, ya know, I watched all this as a TV show and there are some things that just don't change. It's funny to actually hear the things I watched. Plus, you say awesome a lot." as Sam started to nod and chuckle you turned to him, "Oh, Sammy, so get this." Dean laughed at the confused expression on Sam's face. When realization finally hit him, he joined in on the laughter.

Finally settling down, Sam got back to business, "Plan?"

"Do we know where Karns is buried?" directing his question at you, Dean also returned his focus to the case at hand.

"Yeah, in an unmarked grave in an Old North Cemetery. How about, Dean and I take care of Karns bones and Sammy can find Lori Sorensen and get the necklace from her. It's a silver cross."

Both men hummed and nodded their agreement as you began clearing food wrappers from the table and they got things ready for that night. It was already dark, so it was just a matter of loading the Impala and dropping off Sam at the sorority house before you and Dean headed to find the unmarked grave.

You had explained the symbol that marked Karns grave just before Dean stopped the car near the cemetery. As Dean handed you supplies from the trunk, you chuckled at a thought that occurred to you.

"What's so funny now?" he teased.

"I was just thinking, in the other universe, when I'd watch the show… well, I kinda had a little crush on you." Dean turned to face you with a smug smile, "And now, I'm realizing it's so not what I dreamed. Forget movies, cuddles and actual dates. Our lives are digging graves, stitches and diner food."

"Sorry, guess,"

You cut him off, "I'm not complaining. I'm laughing at how naive I was. How the hell did I think normal dating could fit in this life?" Dean chuckled with you but there was not much life in his laughter

"Yahtzee!" Dean exclaimed as he found the grave.

You both started digging without much conversation, except the occasional speculation on how Sam was doing with Lori and the necklace and how you thought he was going to get it from her. Almost to the coffin holding the preachers remains, Dean stopped to lean on his shovel.

"Next time, Sammy helps you dig the grave, I'll handle the cute girl."

"How do you know she's cute?" you retorted as you smacked his arm. "Besides, you've got me."

Without a word Dean kissed the top of your head and continued to dig. Shaking your head and trying not to smile you stuck your shovel into the dirt. The solid sound of metal meeting wood was like heaven to your ears. After smashing the top of the coffin, Dean helped you out of the grave before hoisting himself out as well.

As you began pouring salt on to the bones, Dean was dousing them in gasoline. As he dropped the lit matchbook into the grave he sighed, "Goodbye, preacher."

Grabbing the duffle and shovels, you both headed back toward the Impala. Dean looped his arm around your waist and you leaned into his shoulder.

With a chuckle and a groan at your sore muscles, you mused, "Next time Sammy digs the grave and we both handle the cute girl."

Laughing and pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head once again, he agreed, "Sounds like a plan."

When you reached the car, Dean tossed you the keys to unlock the trunk while he called Sam. Dean frowned at the phone as he hung up after voicemail picked up. It was a 15 minute drive back to the motel and you tried Sam's cell twice on the way there. It kept ringing through to voicemail.

Walking to the room Dean looked around, the room was empty and everything was in place, "Sam? Sammy?" he tried to cover his concern as he checked the bathroom before trying to call Sam again. Same result. "Why the hell isn't he answering?"

Before you had a chance to answer, the door swung open and Sam stumbled in falling on to one of the beds. The door stood wide open and Sam made no sound or movement aside from labored breathing.

As you quickly checked outside and got the door closed and locked, Dean checked on Sam. "You okay man?"

"Uh, no." the words came out as a pained gasp. You had the first aid kit and were at Sam's side before Dean had even gotten him rolled over. Two deep gashes, one on his bicep and one to the abdomen. Both still bleeding and in need of stitches.

"What the hell happened? Why didn't you answer your phone?" you scolded as your voice took on a slightly panicked tone.

"Sorry, mom." Sam sassed you in return.

Dean had gotten both wounds to stop bleeding and had you hold a rag on the gash across Sam's bicep as he stitched the abdominal wound. You're job was to pass the whiskey and keep Sam distracted, which you were doing fairly well. When Dean was about half done with the first wound, Sam had finally calmed himself enough to explain what happened.

"Lori wasn't at the sorority. I checked her house but she wasn't there either. Not even the church, so I went back to the sorority and talked to her roommate, Taylor. She was at the university library. When I found her, Karns showed up. She freaked out, my phone started ringing, Karns got my arm. She ran." he sucked in a breath as pain caught up with him, "Anyway, by the time I caught her and burned the necklace, I had a hook in my gut and my phone was gone."

You placed a kiss on Sam's forehead, "Sorry, Sammy. I should have gone with you. I can't lose you too."

As Dean got ready to stitch Sam's arm, he sent you to the shower. "I'm worried about her, Sammy. Every person we can't save, she…"

"I know." the pain permeated Sam's voice.

Sam was asleep when you came out of the bathroom and Dean slipped past you with a gentle kiss on his way to the shower. Just a few minutes later, he walked out in black boxer briefs, towel in hand and water dripping from his hair and running down his chest. As he finished drying and pulled a black t-shirt over his head, you tried to get comfortable in bed but just stared at Sam's snoring form.

"Com'ere, apple pie." Dean whispered in your ear as he rolled you to face him and pulled you in close. "Everythings okay. Sam's okay. You're okay." he felt your body start to shake with your silent sobs, "I got ya, babe."

You fell asleep to the feel of Dean's fingers running through your hair, the rhythmic beating of his heart and the gentle shushing sound he tried to sooth you with. He continued the soothing gestures long after you had drifted off, only stopping when you no longer shook, shivered or sobbed. With one final kiss placed on your head, he drifted off as well wondering what the next case might hold.


	19. That's New

Waking early the next morning, you slipped out to get coffee and breakfast. When you walked back into the room, two large arms were quickly surrounding your body. 

"Where the hell were you? Jesus Hannah, if Dean woke up and you were gone, he would have flipped out!" still squeezing the life from you, Sam's words rapidly spilled out.

Slowly prying Sam's thick arms from your body, you looked up into his eyes, "Sorry I worried you Sammy. Crap, I scared myself. But I got good coffee and crepes."

"Crepes? What's wrong with pancakes?" without even opening his eyes, Dean began to complain about your breakfast choice. Once he was a little more awake a thought hit him, "Wait. You went out? Alone?"

"I'm a big girl, Winchester." handing him a coffee as he sat up and placing a kiss on his forehead you smiled.

Sipping the coffee he looked up at you, "I know. Just surprised."

Turning to see Sam digging in the bags, you rushed to help him. Guilt over Sam's injuries picked away at you. "Let me help." as you placed the Styrofoam containers on the table you began explaining the next case, "So, the next case is in Oasis Planes, Oklahoma. Some shmuck planned out an entire housing development on cursed land. Much like Lake Manitoc, I don't have a great solution. Maybe we can figure something out before the spring equinox, because" you shivered, "I don't really wanna deal with bugs."

Shaking his head, Sam laughed, "You can stab a demon, shot a shifter, dig a grave and all that, but mice and bugs freak you out."

Refusing to give him the satisfaction of getting under your skin, you stuck your tongue out at him before you continued, "Plus, we need to figure out how to deal with Lilith. Once she's gone and Crowley takes over Hell, there's no worry about the apocalypse. Crowley doesn't want Lucifer out anymore than we do. But Lilith is scary shit and there's no way she's going down how she did before." Noticing the looks the guys were giving you over their take away boxes you sighed.

"Why don't you fill us in on some of this." it wasn't a question, it was Dean's nice way of telling you to start talking.

By the time you had explained Lilith, Crowley, the apocalypse, Sam's visions, the demon blood, and Ruby, both Sam and Dean had questions. Most were easy to answer and Sam handled the news of becoming a demon blood addict fairly well. But then the conversation started to get away from you.

"God, bad enough I get addicted to demon blood, I start the damn apocalypse." a mirthless chuckle passed Sam's lips.

"Yeah, how the hell did that even happen? No way I sat by and watched him turn into a blood junkie." Dean jumped in.

"Oh, ummm. Well,"

"Hannah?" the tone of Dean's voice sent a chill down your spine.

"You weren't around." both sets of eyes pinned on you waited for more. Standing from your chair, you began pacing around the room as you spoke. "It was after your deal, after the hellhounds, after hell."

"About that, how did I get out?"

"Castiel, angel of the Lord. You know that bestest buddy in the whole wide cosmos I mentioned? No better way to bond than pulling your ass out of hell, right?"

Noticing every nervous habit you have manifesting at the mere mention of hell Sam narrowed his eyes at you, "What aren't you telling us, Hanny?"

"There's a lot I haven't told yet. I mean 10 years is a lot and I haven't even covered the all the big bads that come along over that time. I mean Abbadon, Metatron and.."

Cutting you off with a stern tone, Sam pressed again, "About Hell, Hannah."

Flopping backwards on to one of the beds you began , "So, the apocalypse. You know how I said they had to break 66 seals?" they nodded, "And that Lilith's blood was the 66th seal? But the other seals, there were hundreds and it could have been any of them, that only the last one was specific?"

"Yeah, we got that." patience was wearing thin as Dean worried over what you were hiding.

"I lied. The first and final seals are specific ones. The others are still random."

"Lilith was the final seal. What's the first?" even Sam was losing patience.

"And it is written, that the first Seal shall be broken when a Righteous Man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break." you recited Alastair's words.

"Oh." quietly contemplating the words, Dean let them sink in.

"So, this curse. It's bugs?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"Uh, yeah, killer bugs. Think you can find anything on breaking a curse?"

"You don't break a curse. You get out of it's way." Dean said as he headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. The tension could be felt rolling off of him as he walked away.

Sam opened his lap top and began looking for a way to break the curse, occasionally asking you a question to narrow down his search. He looked up briefly when Dean emerged from the bathroom, "Still nothing on breaking the curse." he announced.

"Can't be done, Sammy. So, apple pie, what's after the bugs?" Dean asked trying not to show the weight he carried.

You thought for a moment before your eyes bulged, "Umm, a poltergeist in Kansas. In Lawrence. Umm, in your old house actually."

Without a word Sam walked to the bathroom to change, leaving you and Dean alone. "Great." sarcasm oozed from the word as it left his mouth.

"Look, Dean, I know you don't wanna go back there. That you promised yourself you wouldn't. I promise you, it will be fine and there is a woman and her two kids that need your help."

Head hanging and refusing to meet your eyes, "I'm not going back there. Hannah, how am I supposed to after what happened a-and… and I just keep screwing up."

You're heart sunk, "Dean, look at me." when he continued to hang his head, you moved to stand in front of where he was seated on the bed. "Look at me, Winchester."

"So you can tell me it's not my fault? That it's okay? That's all bullshit." he raised his head just a little, but still wouldn't meet your eyes.

Nudging his hands out of the way and sitting down straddling his legs, you pulled his face in front of yours. Looking him straight in the eyes, you finally began to speak, "You're right. It's not okay. You shouldn't have to go back, you shouldn't have to be the one to save all these damn people, you shouldn't have gone to hell, none of that should have happened. Screw fault, could I blame you? Sure. Am I going to? Hell no. You've never tried to hurt someone, never set out to do harm. But you're human Dean. You make mistakes, just like the rest of us. The only one who expects you to be perfect is you."

He started to smile, but before it had even fully stretched across his lips, a frown and furrowed eyebrows replaced it. Sam walked back into the room just in time to hear Dean quietly ask, "What did I do in hell?"

"Now? Nothing. You've never been to hell and I will do every damn thing I can to stop it. It's not happening, no matter what." Even if I have to make a deal and go to hell myself, you thought to yourself, "Don't carry guilt over what could have happened, it didn't happen and it won't, Dean." With one look he told you that he wasn't dropping this completely. 

Having seated himself behind his laptop once again, Sam's head popped up, "Think I got something."

"Dang Sammy, figure out how to break a curse that fast?" your voice was teasing but genuine awe was in your words. The man was good, but that was impressive even for him.

"Uh, no. Not the curse. A news article came up with one of my searches. About a church in New Mexico. They've had nine members die in the last five months. Three others are missing."

"That's new." the words left your mouth without thought.

"How'd they bite it, Sammy?" Dean looked like a kid in a candy store with an actual case to figure out.

"Uuhhh. Oh, gross. One drowned in her own blood after eating glass filled cupcakes from a bake sale. Two men electrocuted by door bells. A couple suicides and one murdered under 'suspicious circumstances' and no one has been charged." Sam read off the causes of death.

Dean wrinkled his nose and pouted his lips as he thought it through, "Random, but they're all connected by the church. Might as well check it out. We'll take off after lunch, see what we find."

Everyone nodded in agreement and Dean headed outside to look over the Impala, man loved to take good care of his baby. As you started packing up things from around the room, Sam was still at his laptop looking for a way to break a curse.

With fingers pressed to his temples he let out a groan, "Okay, so tell me everything you remember about the curse and what happened."

Starting from the mad cow/Oprah conversation, you began recounting every detail you could remember. As you reached the point where Sam and Dean had followed Matt into the woods near the housing development Dean walked in. They were both listening intently as you told them about the bugs, the bones that Dean pulled up from the disgusting pile of bugs and the conversation with the anthropology professor.

"Wait, wait. Native American bones? So, this development is on tribal land? Maybe a few calls can get this project shut down." Sam cut in offering a solution.

"So, we swing through Oklahoma on the way to New Mexico. Cars ready when you ladies are." Dean teased as he headed out the door to wait for you and Sam.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After reaching Oasis Planes and finding the bones, you were all headed to a local group that helped the tribes in the surrounding areas. They were known for tying up development of tribal land for decades and that seemed like the best solution to the curse without anyone getting killed.

"Dean! There's a beetle crawling out of the box!" you were pressed against the door trying to get away from the bug.

Laughter erupted from the front seat, "We'll be there in a half hour, apple pie. Just chill."

As a few more creepy crawlies spilled over the edges of the box, you squealed and threw yourself over the seat. You landed in Sam's lap.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. I won't spend another half a second back there! Why couldn't you put the damn box in the trunk?"

"Not nearly as much fun, Hanny." came Sam's teasing reply.

Both of them continued to tease you until Dean stopped the Impala in front of a low brick building and everyone made their way inside. It wasn't long before all information had been relayed and the group eagerly took over stopping the Oasis Planes development. 

Without a word, Dean brushed the remaining bugs from the backseat before holding the door open to let you in. "My hero." you faked a southern drawl, teasing him for the sweet gesture.

"Alright you two. Let's get going." Sam redirected everyone to the plan.

"Fine. Sammy, you're always ruining my fun!" you pouted as you lowered yourself into the back seat.

Once you were back on the open road, discussion of the case filled the car. It was thrilling to actually be working a case with the boys, figuring it out and planning an attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That end feels rushed... I don't know what to do with this, bugs give me the heebies and I don't really wanna write about bugs. I just want them to go away.


	20. Curiosity Can Kiss My Ass

Sitting on the motel bed in New Mexico, you listened to Sam recount the details of the dead and missing church members. The suicides had come first and been a shock to everyone who knew the people. The murder next, a man shot and killed in his home that was locked up tight from the inside with no sign of forced entry and no gun was found in the home. Next had been the pair of men who were electrocuted by a faulty doorbell while they were out visiting shut ins from the congregation. Lastly was the gruesome bake sale fiasco the weekend before. Mixed in among those were the three missing persons, one man and two women, all disappeared without a trace.

"So, let's talk to the preacher and the last victims husband. See if we can dig up anything else." Dean offered.

You had spent some time on Sam's laptop in the car, "The only other thing I've found about this sweet little town is a sudden stray cat problem, let's hope the locals have something more enlightening to share." a groan passed your lips as you heaved yourself from the bed.

It was a small town. Main street was five blocks long, businesses lined both sides with a few set back on the next street. The church was at the opposite end of main street from the motel. Headed out into the surrounding rural area, was the home of Henry Riddle, husband of the bake sale victim Melissa. Sam walked toward the church as you and Dean pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward the Riddle home.

Parking in front of the cutesy cottage style home and heading toward the door a few cover stories were tossed back and forth. Dean knocked on the door and a dark haired man in his forties, wearing Dockers and a polo answered the door, looking more than a little weary and tired and his day old beard looked out of place on him.

"Good morning, Mr. Riddle. My name is Dean, this is my colleague, Hannah. We're grief counselors with the county social service program. We'd like a few minutes to talk with you about your late wife, Melissa." Dean turned on the charm that worked equally well on either gender and gained him the trust of pretty much everyone he used it on.

"Uh, sure." Mr. Riddle stuttered out as he stepped aside to let you both into the house.

Taking in your surroundings you note the very floral centric theme through out the house, the numerous casserole dishes and baked goodies filling the kitchen counter, the slightly disheveled look of the living room that this man was clearly spending all his time in and the obvious signs of a grieving man who hasn't found a new rhythm to life without his wife. You were quiet as Dean spoke with Henry Riddle and offered to refill the poor mans coffee for him when he sighed, noticing that the mug was empty.

After moving a few things out of the way, you set about starting a fresh pot of coffee in the Riddle's kitchen. When you pulled the coffee maker away from the wall to change the filter, you heard something thunk to the inside of the coffee maker. Peering into the water reservoir you could hardly believe your eyes. A hex bag, inside the coffee pot.

Once the hex bag was removed and the coffee was made, you returned to the living room. Handing Henry his mug of coffee, you spoke softly, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Riddle. If there's anything else we can do for you, please call this number." slipping a card into his hand, you turned to head out the door with Dean quick on your heels.

The door had hardly closed behind you when Dean began to harshly question you, "What the hell, Hannah? We didn't get anything out of the man and you turn tail? Hope Sam gets something at the church 'cause you just blew this one for us!"

"Are you done yet?" calmly looking at him over the roof of the Impala, you pulled the hex bag from your pocket and tossed it to him. "Some witch has it out for the church members. Hopefully Sammy gets the name of whoever's holding a grudge." dropping in to the car, you waited patiently for Dean to get in.

Starting the car and pulling on to the road Dean didn't say a word. As you pulled into the motel parking lot, he cleared his throat, "So, uh, good work back there."

"Oh, stop. Dean, you'll hurt yourself." you replied mockingly to his attempt at making up for being an asshole.

Back in the room and waiting for Sam, you grabbed his laptop and started searching for anything that could lead you to your witch.

"How is it Sammy lets you use his laptop, but I touch it and he freaks?" Dean asks as he opens the hex bag and starts picking through the contents hoping for something that may hint to who put it together.

With a smile you look at Dean, "Because I use it for research, not porn." He nods and quirks an eyebrow in agreement with your statement as he continues to poke through the hex bag.

"There's nothing here. I mean some fabric, glass, herbs and bones. I think they're from a rabbit. But nothing here's gonna tell us who the witch bitch is." grabbing the hex bag and contents, he headed to the sink and was about to burn it when Sam walked through the door.

"Is that a hex bag?" the question came out in a shocked tone.

"Yup. Got us a witch to burn. Just don't know who. Yet." you said distractedly as you continued to search the web for any hints to the witches identity.

Turning from the sink with the hex bag still in hand, Dean took on a condescending tone, "You know, apple pie, we can just shoot 'em."

"I think I know who our witch is." Sam piped in, "I was talking to the preacher."

The laptop was quickly yanked from under your finger tips, "Hey!"

"There have been several complaints against the church. Same person every time. A woman who was, sort of ostracized by the church. Janis Franklin." Sammy spun the laptop around to show a picture and news article. Miss Franklin had opened a flower shop on Main Street and that had been front page news for the small town.

"Let's go talk to her. After we burn that damn hex bag! You waitin' for an invitation, Winchester?" you taunted him.

As the hex bag went up in flames, Dean dropped it in to the sink and turned to face you with a smirk on his face. Before you could react, his hands grabbed hold of your waist and you were thrown over his shoulder, squealing and giggling. "I was gonna get you flowers while we were there, but not now." he teased as he gave a playful slap to your ass.

"Put me down!"

Dean finally released you with a plop into the back seat of the impala and within a few minutes the three of you were walking into the flower shop and faced with Janis Franklin. She seemed sweet, innocent and oblivious to witchcraft. Each of you began to doubt that Miss Franklin was indeed the witch you were hunting. The more you interviewed her, the more doubt each of you felt.

After coffee and cookies, (because hey, free food) you all headed back to the motel. The ride was silent as you all considered the information gathered during your interview.

Walking in the door Sam spoke first, "I don't think she's our witch."

"Well, I'll go grab us some lunch. Then we'll see what else we can dig up on this town." Dean offered as he headed out the door to the only diner in town.

Sam looked at where you laid on one of the beds, "I'm gonna grab a shower. Looks like you're going to grab a nap."

"Damn right." came your muttered response as you nestled deeper into the pillows. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, you still hadn't been sleeping well since escaping Meg.

Your nap was cut short by loud voices, "Well, where the hell is she, Sammy?"

"I dunno man, she was pretty much asleep when I got in the shower. I'll call her, she couldn't have gone far." Sam tried to stay calm, but concern laced his words.

As the fog of sleep began to lift from your mind, something didn't feel right. When you tried to stretch something was definitely wrong. As your phone began to ring on the pillow next to you, you lifted your head.

Dean turned to the bed and reached for the ringing phone but stopped short and pulled his hand back, "Sam? Why is there a cat in my bed?"

"I have no idea. How'd it even get in here?" he asked in confusion.

Moving the covers aside, Dean took a better look at the cat. An adorable orange tabby, snuggled in between the pillows staring him in the eye. Something about the cats eyes looked familiar.

"Uh, Dean." the words were slow and cautious off Sam's tongue, "I, um, I think,"

"Spit it out, man." the lack of patience was evident in every syllable Dean uttered.

"That is Hannah." Sam announced confidently. "She's still got her necklace on."

"Hannah?" leaning closer to you, Dean cautiously spoke to you.

Meowing, you moved to brush against him but fell as you tried to walk across the bed. Coordinating four legs to move in unison wasn't easy.

"Guess, Janis Franklin is our witch after all." Sam said with a chuckle, as he scratched the top of your head.

With the best 'fuck you' look that you could with a cute little kitty face, you swatted at Sam's hand, your claws digging in just a bit.

"Well, cat or not, she's still Hannah." Dean smirked at his little brother, who was glaring at a cat. "Who wants to go kill a witch?"

Dropping from the bed with much more grace than you had walked across it before, you headed to the door. You'd managed to stay on your feet the entire way and were feeling more than a little proud of how quickly you were figuring out the whole being a cat thing. Suddenly the floor disappeared from below you and was just as quickly replaced by Dean's chest as he held you up to him, "Sorry apple pie. You're stayin' right here."

With ears tucked back in anger, you hissed your disapproval.

"Here," Sam clearly had an idea and scooped you from Dean's arms and walked across the room scratching the base of your neck, making you purr. Before you could pull your mind from the blissful euphoria, he had set you on the bathroom counter and closed the door.

"Dude, you're locking her in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, well, she can kill me later. When she has hands." he offered in defense, causing Dean to chuckle at what must be a very angry Hannah locked in a bathroom with no hands to open the door. As Sam closed the motel room door behind him, he chuckled.

"You think it's funny now, but wait until she's human again. Won't be funny then."

"Actually, I was just wondering if rubbing her neck always makes her purr like that." Sam teased.

"Keep your paws off my girl, Sammy." Dean's warning carried a playful tone.

Laughing a bit louder, Sam barely got out his reply, "She's the one with paws, not me!"

"We're so gonna pay for this." Dean stated as he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.

 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

You weren't sure how long you'd been locked in the bathroom. Several little naps had been taken, you'd exhausted yourself jumping at the door knob trying to grab hold, fallen in the sink twice, almost fell into the toilet once, played with the toilet paper (you now had full understanding of why cats pulled it off the roll and spread it across the room) and you'd attempted to climb the shower curtain just to see if you could, turns out it was cheap and your claws were sharp. 

Currently, you were stretched across the heat vent, feeling the warm air blow across your fur. Fairly certain that another nap was in the works, until muffled voices and the slam of the door reached your ears.

"Hannah! Hannah?" Dean's voice grew louder and clearer as he approached the door. As he swung the door open he was looking almost straight ahead, like he expected you to be over five feet tall. When he finally looked down at you, he groaned "Damn it! Sam, she's still a cat."

 _Guess they killed the witch. Hope that was the witch!_ Your thoughts raced.

"So, let's check for a hex bag. Maybe it wasn't a spell she cast while we were at the shop." Sam offered as he started checking around the room. Dean was checking your jacket before joining in the search of the room.

You even joined in the search, treating the room like an obstacle course. Every surface was your play ground, you could get used to this.

Dean flopped on to the bed with a groan of defeat. As you curled against his side, he began petting you before finally speaking, "I think we need to call Bobby."

"Great. He's gonna be thrilled. First she's missing, then kidnapped and now she's a cat!"

"If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears!"

After a brief staring contest, each hoping the other would crack, Dean raised a fist in front of him and Sam followed suit.

Dean threw scissors and Sam threw rock.

Dean threw paper, Sam went scissors.

"Fuck." pulling his phone from his pocket, Dean dialed Bobby's number. "Hey, Bobby."

Sam grabbed the phone at put it on speaker.

"What are you idjits into now?" Bobby teased.

"About that," Sam started. Bobby just waited quietly when Sam didn't continue.

"The case in New Mexico. It was a witch." Dean picked up where Sam left off.

"And?" Bobby was growing less patient with each passing word.

Sam took another turn, "We killed her, but before we could"

This time Bobby cut him off, "Where's Hannah? What happened to her now? I swear next time I see you, I'm gonna."

Dean cut in before Bobby could finish his threat, "She's a cat, Bobby. Hannah's a cat."

"Excuse me?" Bobby was sure he had miss heard that one.

"We've looked everywhere for a hex bag but can't find anything. And the witch is dead, so" Sam trailed off.

"So, you two need me to figure it out for you? Because you screwed up and she's a cat! I'll see what I can find, but if the witch is dead, there's no hex bag and there was no incantation. We may just be waiting to see if she changes back."

"If? Bobby, my fiancé is a cat!" before Dean could finish his outburst the line had gone dead. Turning to Sam, Dean heaved a sigh, "What do we do?"

"I guess, wait." Sam started, not feel confident in that choice, "She said the next case was our old house, so maybe we take care of that?"

Hearing those words you ran to the door and pawed at it, "I don't like this, but seems like she does." Dean said softly, you could hear the pain and fear in his voice. The sudden burst of sneezes and snuffles that Dean emitted sent a sense of dread to the pit of your stomach.

_Oh crap, he's allergic to me! So much for snuggle time!_

"Man, I forgot you're allergic to cats." the realization had hit Sam too as they walked out of the motel room with their duffles in hand. Sam loaded the impala, while Dean went to check out.

Sam was seated in the car waiting when Dean returned. As he took his place behind the wheel and looked to Sam, he noticed the furry orange ball. You were curled up on Sam's lap and he was rubbing that spot on the back of your neck. The rumble of your purrs audible throughout the car.

With a frustrated sigh, Dean started the impala. "A fucking cat in my car." he muttered under his breath. Kitty ears hear much better than human ones, your head shot up and the deep purr in your throat morphed in to a growl. "No offense, apple pie, but you are a cat." His fingers scratched at the top of your head as a peace offering before he turned is attention to backing the car out of the space and pulling on to the road.

"Think she can still help us?" Sam asked once you were asleep.

"If being a cat stops Hannah, I'd be shocked. Now, she just can't yell at us." he ended with smile and uplifted tone.


	21. We're in Kansas, Toto

The drive was mostly silent. The occasional call to see if Bobby had found anything or your meowing breaking up the silence. Neither brother knew what to say.

Finally, the ringing of Sam's phone broke the silence just as you crossed the state line into Kansas.

"What'd you find, Bobby?" Sam asked as he put the call on speaker phone.

"You're not gonna like it." Bobby started hesitantly.

"I don't like my girl being a cat. How much worse can it get, Bobby?" Dean snapped.

"Well, hello to you too sunshine. We can't undo the curse on Hannah."

"WHAT?!" cutting Bobby off, Dean's shriek startled you.

"We can't break it, but it wears off." Bobby tried to calm Dean down.

Dean was grumbling under his breath, so Sam asked the question hanging in the air, "How long, Bobby?"

"Depends. We're assuming the curse was something in the coffee since there was no hex bag, incantation or anything else and she's the only one of you who drank any. How much coffee did she drink?" the uneasiness in Bobby's tone was ominous.

Dean scoffed, "Bobby, it's Hannah. Four, maybe five cups. Easy."

"Well, that's fan-freakin-tastic." Bobby deadpanned over the line. "It's gonna be awhile. The more she ingested, the longer until it wears off. Maybe she'll finally learn free coffee ain't always a good thing."

Hearing Bobby's chastisement, you began hissing at the phone as Sam tried to keep it clear of your swatting paws, "Yeah, she still understands everything. So, let's not get carried away."

"Well, good luck with her." without another word, Bobby hung up and the line went dead.

"That's great. You hear that, apple pie, you're little coffee addiction got ya into this mess and we can't get you out of it." Dean teased. You hissed and hopped in to the back seat.

"Careful, Dean. Piss her off and the upholstery might not survive." Sam barely got the words out through his stifled laughter.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, Dean spotted you laying in the back window, giving Sam the dirtiest look either of them had ever seen from a cat, "Dude, I think she's pissed at you. You know she'd never hurt my baby."

The rest of the ride continued in silence until Dean stopped the Impala in front of the house. The air in the car was tense. Dean shifted in his seat as both men stared at the house. The fur on the back of your neck stood up and you began pacing the back seat. Three tough hunters of all the things that go bump in the night, and a house had you all on edge. You tried to calm yourself, you knew things would be fine, but sensing the unease of the brothers, you couldn't seem to calm the jumpy kitty feeling.

"I wish we knew why we were here. Did she tell you?" Dean was stalling.

"No man. Don't you think I might have mentioned that?"

"Right. Well, might as well get this over with." Dean climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him. You peered through the window indignant.

Running across the front bench seat, you almost slipped out Sam's door before he closed it. You sat back and let loose a string of angry mewls. As they crossed the street, you spotted Dean's window partly rolled down. Not much, but you thought maybe you could squeeze through. With a little maneuvering you squeezed your head through and then your front paws. Soon you had half your body hanging out the window and quickly fell to the ground. Landing almost on your feet. Righting yourself, you caught up with the boys just as the door opened.

"Yes?" an attractive blonde greeted them.

Sam was distracted by the sight of you at Dean's feet. "Sorry to bother you ma'am, we're with the…" you clawed Dean's leg and hissed making him jump back in protest.

Catching on to your not so subtle hint, Sam spoke, "I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by, and we were wondering if we could see the old place."

The woman smiled, "Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

Shocked, Dean's head snapped up, "You did?"

"Yeah. Come on in."

"Do you mind if she joins us?" Sam asked picking you up. Noticing the leery expression on the woman's face, he quickly added, "She's a… medical support animal."

"Uh, sure." she nodded as she led the way to the kitchen. She introduced the kids as the boys took in the sight of the house. They quickly switched to questions about the house.

Jenny looked solemn as she spoke, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home… I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memoires here. But this place has its issues."

"Like what?" Dean asked a little too quickly.

"You know, old wiring, we've got flickering lights almost hourly. Sinks backed up. Rat's in the basement." she looked up at the brothers, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No." Dean said reassuringly, "Have you seen the rats or just heard scratching?"

After thinking a moment, Jenny continued, "It's just the scratching, actually."

Soon they had heard Sari's tale of the figure on fire. The tension they carried multiplied and you couldn't stop pacing with your hair raised. You rubbed up against Dean's leg and headed toward the door.

"Umm, thanks Jenny. We'll get out of your way." Dean offered, gesturing to you when Sam looked at him questioningly.

Once the door closed behind them and they were headed across the street, Sam spoke first, "A figure on fire. The scratching and flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

"Sounds like. What do you think, apple pie?" he scratched behind your ears as he carried you to the car. A small meow crawled out of your throat as you snuggled against his chest.

"You think it's the thing that killed mom and Jessica? Has it come back or has it been here the whole time?" Sam's questions were stringing together in panicked succession. Climbing into their respective sides of the car, they continued their conversation.

"I don't know, man! Maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet!" anger bit into Dean's tone as he barked at his little brother. You began meowing again.

Sam tipped his head with eyebrows raised, disappearing behind his hair, "Okay, this could work. Hannah, is it a spirit?" you meowed.

Dean shook his head, but joined the questioning, "Is it what killed mom and Jessica?" you hissed. He began rubbing behind your ears again, "Don't suppose you can tell us who's spirit it is?" you just stared at him. As he started the car and Sam rolled his window down.

"So, what are we supposed to do now?" before Dean could even begin to answer Sam's question, you had jumped out the window and taken off running.

"What the hell!" Dean threw the car in gear and began following you.

"I hope she knows where she's going." Sam looked at Dean, uncertain that you weren't just becoming more cat like.

Speeding around the corner you had disappeared around, Dean came to a stop. Neither of them could see you anywhere. Cutting the engine and letting out a sigh, he climbed out of the car. With a glance exchanged over the roof of the car, they both groaned.

"We better find her, Dean." As they began walking along the sidewalk, Sam continued to speak, "How much do you actually remember? About that night, when mom…"

Dean cleared his throat before he began, "Not much. I remember the fire, the heat." his eyes shifted to the ground and hesitated, "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" awe colored Sam's words.

Looking to Sam uncertainly, "Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Sam just shook his head.

They had passed three houses and were about to pass a fourth when meows reached their ears, turning toward the sound, they saw you. Sitting calmly on the step of a house, looking at them impatiently. As they started up the walk, you jumped up the steps and on to the door mat.

"Guess, this is the place." Dean said as he watched you.

"What place?"

"The place Hannah wants us to go." he shrugged as he knocked on the door.

"Sam! Dean! So good to see you!" greeted the short, cheery woman at the door.

"Ummm, do we know you?" Dean was on edge at the friendly greeting from a complete stranger.

Before anyone could speak again, you slipped passed the woman into the living room. She spun on her heels and with hands on hips spoke sharply to you, "Girl, don't you dare get on my furniture! Well, come on in boys."

They shared a weary glance before walking into the house and following the woman to her living room where you were curled up on the rug. She gestured for them to sit before she spoke again, "Let me get a look at you, it's been so long."

Sam cleared his throat, "Who are you?"

She seemed unaffected by the question as she looked at you, "You don't say. Well, looks like I've got a lot to explain since you boys can't speak cat."

"And you can?" Dean scoffed, thinking the woman was insane.

"No. My name is Missouri Moseley. I can read minds, sense energies, most refer to me as a psychic."

"Right." sarcasm was heavy on the one word Dean uttered.

"Boy, don't you dare put your feet on my coffee table!" she scolded Dean, who hadn't moved at all.

"Okay. So, what can you tell us?" Dean asked Missouri over the sound of Sam's laughter.

Missouri proceeded to tell the boys about how she came to know John, what she knew about the house in the last 22 years and several details of why they were there. You had done your best to plead with her not to reveal everything. Some of it they needed to work through on their own and you didn't know if they'd go back if they knew who was there. She had given a small nod and only shared enough to get them on the right track.

"Wait, she knows more. She knows every detail of everything that happens here. What aren't you telling us?" Sam was pointing at you and getting upset about missing details. The case was hard enough, he was hoping for a quick in and out with a psychic to relay messages from you.

Missouri sighed, "Sam, communicating with a cat isn't all that easy. I've told you all I can. And I need to get mouse traps, that things really distracting her." Everyone turned to see you stalking along the wall and sniffing the baseboards.

"Hannah!" the chastising shout Dean sent your way had you stopping in your tracks. Realizing what you were doing, you tucked your tail and headed quickly back to the place the boys were standing near the door.

"I should come with you boys. If I'm supposed to be there helping, well, the more help the better right?" Missouri offered.

"So, there's two spirits. One is a poltergeist. And the other is? What? And who is our poltergeist?" Trying to work through the details, Sam was frustrated with the lack of information Missouri seemed to be able to offer.

"We need to get Jenny and her kids out of that house, but first we need to figure out what we're dealing with." Dean was calm, too calm. A sure sigh he was an absolute mess inside. As both brothers settled into the car, you snuggled up next to his leg and tried to ignore his sniffling and sneezing.

Before pulling away from the curb, Sam looked at Missouri through his open window and began to speak, "Missouri, do you have any idea how long until Hannah is on two legs again?"

"I can't be sure, Sam, but her energy is more human than cat." with a warm smile, Missouri waved to the boys, "Don't forget to call before you head over to Jenny's."

Settled at a table outside a coffee shop for a late lunch, Sam clicked away on his laptop while Dean was talking things out. They had been there for hours and the sun was beginning to set.

"Okay, what do we got on the house?" Dean asked, feeling that they'd reached the end of the information available and learned nothing new.

Sam's face contorted in disgust as he looked at the laptop screen, "Eh, well, a repair man just had his hand eaten off by the garbage disposal this afternoon."

You're ears perked up and you began pacing, you had to get them back to Jenny's. Sinking your teeth into the denim at his ankles, you began tugging Dean's leg.

"What, Hannah?" He was too lost in thought to pick up on what you were trying to say.

Leaping on the table, you nudged the laptop that still showed the story of the plumbers mangled hand. Mewling loudly, you hoped down and headed for the car.

"Guess we're going back to Jenny's. Better call Missouri." Sam said as he collected his lap top and Dean dropped some cash on the table.

As Dean started the car, Sam pulled his phone out. You glanced around at the dark night, it was later than you'd realized. How long had you been at that coffee shop? With a hiss and a swat of your paw, you knocked the phone from Sam's grasp.

"What the hell, Hannah? We're going to get Missouri and then head to Jenny's, chill out." Sam barked at you.

Every hair along your spine stood on end as your spine arched and you released the longest and most menacing hiss you could muster. You saw the turn for Jenny's street approaching and turned to Dean, nudging the wheel.

Dean understood, "Sam, call Missouri and tell her to meet us there. I don't think we have time to pick her up."

Sam had barely relayed the information to Missouri when Dean stopped the car in front of the house. A quick look and everything was okay, but at second glance there stood Jenny in the window panic written across her features.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as he pointed to the window. They were both out of the car and across the street in seconds.

You were stuck. They'd slammed the doors and the windows weren't even cracked. All you could do was sit and stare at the house.

In only a couple minutes, Dean had Jenny in the yard and soon after Sari brought Richie out. You panicked and began mewling.

Dean was chipping his way through the front door with an axe and time seemed to move too slowly. Once he'd made a hole large enough to get himself through, time stood still. There was nothing you could do but trust Mary. With a little chuckle to yourself, you calmed. Of course they'd be fine, no one else would take care of them as well as Mary would.

The minutes continued to tick by slowly until finally, the brothers emerged from the house just as Missouri arrived. The woman quickly came over to release you from the car and you bolted across the street to Dean, who was seated on the porch steps.

"You knew it was Mom, didn't you?" he asked as he scooped you up. You meowed and nuzzled closer to him. "Yeah, probably was a good idea not to tell me. You should have seen her, Hannah. Sh-she… she." he sighed unable to find the words. Purring you pushed closer to him.

Finally calmed and taking in her surroundings, Jenny shot a quizzical look at Dean and the tabby cat, "He's really fond of that cat, huh?"

Sam chuckled and raised an eyebrow, "Uh, long story and probably more than you're ready for after tonight. Let's get the kids back to bed and, ummm, kitchens gonna need cleaning… and repairs." turning to his brother, "Dean, you wanna get started on the front door? We can't leave it like this."

"Right. Ummm, sorry about that."

Jenny smiled, "Don't be."

By the time the kitchen was in working order again and the door had been replaced, the sun was rising in to the sky. Jenny and Dean were talking as he flipped through the photos she had found and returned to them. Missouri and Sam were seat on the porch and you knew the conversation they were having about why Mary Winchester would destroy herself going after the poltergeist. You were sprawled across the trunk of the car, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your fur.

When good byes were said and Jenny had taken the kids back inside, Missouri turned to you and the boys. "She's already a lot more human energy than she was yesterday." she stated very bluntly, "And she wants you to take her to Bobby's. Don't be strangers, ya hear." without waiting for a response she was walking away.

"Guess, we're going to Bobby's. And hang out until Hannah is back on two legs." Dean revved the engine before pulling away.

You laid in the back seat, trying to figure out how to get them to leave you at Bobby's and go to the next case. Sure, you could help them, but they could manage on their own just fine.


	22. Lingering Ramifications

Pulling up to Bobby's house, Dean killed the engine before you all climbed out. As the boys grabbed their bags from the car, you ran to the porch to wait out of Rumsfeld's reach.

 

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Bobby called to them as he walked towards the house from the salvage yard. "I'm guessing she's still a cat."

 

"Very funny, Bobby. And yeah, still a cat." Dean huffed as he passed Bobby on his way to the porch.

 

Bobby gave Sam a look asking what had Dean in a foul mood. "I don't think he likes dating a cat." Sam tried to hold back his laughter. "We're gonna hold up here until she's back to normal. If that's alright with you."

 

"Sure, but I don't think that girls ever been normal."

 

Once everyone was settled around the table eating, you started planning how to get the boys out on the road. You paced around the room and saw Dean's duffle sticking out from under a chair. Meowing you nuzzled the bag and then rubbed against each mans leg before going back to the bag. After several rounds, Bobby spoke up, "What the hell do you want girl? You can't just let us eat."

 

Always the peace keeper Sam followed you to the bag, "What do ya need, Hannah?"

 

"She needs to be human!" the humor for the situation was fading from Dean's voice.

 

Pawing the bag until Sam unzipped it, you climbed in and began digging for the item you sought.

 

"Really? In my duffle? Come on!"

 

Finally finding what you searched for, you sunk your teeth into the leather just as Sam lifted you out of the bag. Feeling the weight slip, you dug your claws into get a better hold.

 

"Huh." settling on the couch with you, Sam coaxed your claws out of the leather, "Dad's journal. Why did you want this Hannah?"

 

Joining you and Sam, Dean chuckled, "Bobby, my brother is talking to a cat. And that doesn't even seem weird."

 

You nosed the cover until Sam flipped it open and you began pawing at the pages for him to turn them until you found what you were looking for. A happy purr of satisfaction emitted from your throat.

 

"Roosevelt Asylum." Sam read the name from the newspaper clipping. "Is this our next case? I thought you wanted to wait out the curse here?"

 

"Guess we'll head out after we eat. Couldn't you have just told us to go to the asylum when we were in Kansas, instead of sending us here just to take off again?" tired of the run around and difficulty communicating with his fiancée, Dean struggled to hold his temper.

 

Bobby sighed and finally spoke up, "You two idjits ever stop to think she wants to stay here and you two go deal with this case?" Hearing Bobby's words, you trotted over and rubbed up against his leg.

 

"Huh. Guess we deal with the asylum without her." Sam agreed as he settled himself back at the table to finish his meal.

 

After a sneezing fit, Dean sighed, "Yeah, I guess."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Impala had pulled out of the salvage yard three days ago. Boredom had quickly taken hold and Bobby refused to entertain you, so you had opted for a nice long nap next to the fireplace.

 

When you woke up, Bobby was no longer at his desk but you could hear the clanging of metal alerting you to his presence in the yard, working on a car. With the house to yourself, you began to explore from you're relatively new four legged perspective.

 

First, you jumped up on Bobby's desk and surveyed the room. Nothing looked particularly fascinating, so with a leap you headed to the kitchen where you caught a flash of something under the fridge. Pawing in out, you found it was a beer bottle cap. After batting it around the floor for awhile, you grew bored and began to climb the stairs.

 

After roaming the entire second floor (and leaving a wake of batted, shredded chaos) you headed to the basement. There were several little nooks and crannies you could squeeze into now. Most were just filled with dust and bugs and junk, a few had dead mice. Oddly those didn't seem to bother you at this point. One had a weird stone with something engraved on it, you made a mental note to come back for that once you had thumbs.

 

Finally, making your way back up to your bedroom, you curled up on the bed for a nap. Being a cat was exhausting. You almost didn't make it up on to the bed, no wonder cats took so many damn naps.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Walking back into the house, Bobby noticed you were no longer snoozing on the hearth and looked around to see where you may have gone. Papers were knocked off the desk and a few books laid on the floor near a chair they had been sitting on.

 

"Hannah?" when Bobby got no answer, he began to look around a bit more intently.

 

The kitchen seemed undisturbed until he found the garbage can knocked over and followed the trail of rubbish to the base of the stairs. As he looked up the stairs something didn't feel right, there was something different Bobby couldn't quite pin down that made him feel uneasy.

 

Grabbing a gun, he slowly began to climb the stairs and take in the second floor as it became visible. Linens were falling out of open closets, toilet paper was shredded down the hallway, the lamp on Bobby's bedside table was knocked over. With each new discovery Bobby was more confused if there had been an attack or a kitten at play, but with each step closer to your room that uneasy feeling grew heavier in his gut. Just as he reached your room there was a flash of purple light from under the door and force that knocked him back against the wall opposite the door.

 

Finally able to reach the door as the wave of force subsided and the light faded, Bobby slowly opened the door and looked inside. His eyes flew wide open at the sight before him. You were laid out on your bed with the blankets snuggled up around your chin, (H/C) locks messily strewn across your face and pillow and a very human shape outlined by the blanket over you. Rushing to your side, he began to try to wake you up.

 

"Hannah! Hannah! Come on, kiddo. Wake up." after several minutes he began checking for a pulse and other signs of life. Relief washed over him when he concluded that you were alive, just unconscious. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he hung is head and pondered what to do. Standing up, he bent down to place a kiss on your forehead and whispered, "I'm gonna figure this out Hanny. I promise."

 

Leaving the door ajar behind him, he made his way down stairs and began sifting through papers and books and everything he could find. The bank of phones along the kitchen wall rang and went unanswered. Rumsfeld gave up his attempts to get a belly rub and went upstairs to lay across the foot of your bed. Everything was ignored in favor of finding some way to help you.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Bobby still isn't answering." Sam couldn't hide the concern in his tone or the furrow of his brow. Bobby always answered when he or Dean called, now he hadn't answered or returned a call in almost a day and a half.

 

Without a word, Dean pressed the accelerator to the floor board. Thoughts racing through his mind. Images of the house in chaos and void of life flashed through his brain. Blood dripping down walls and hollow loneliness echoing around him.

 

Sam quietly continued to call every number Bobby had, silently praying he'd pick up. Equally grim thoughts crossed his mind, but the younger Winchester knew better than to voice those fears in front of Dean. Saying anything at this point was likely to land him with a broken nose while Dean yelled for him to shut up and stop bleeding on the upholstery.

 

After a couple hours they had covered more ground than should have been possible in tense silence. Picking up his phone, Sam made another attempt to contact Bobby. As the phone rang for the sixth time he moved to hang up.

 

"This better be important!" snapped the voice over the line.

 

Relief washed over Sam, but Dean only tightened his hold on the steering wheel as he continued to push the Impala to her limits. "Bobby, what's going on? We've been calling since yesterday after lunch."

 

Finally paying attention to Sam's words, Bobby drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking, "You boys need to get your asses here. NOW!"

 

The line was dead before Sam could respond, turning to face Dean who was looking at him expectantly, "Drive."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Books slamming on to the desk, the refrigerator door swinging shut, aggravated voices punctuating each statement with some rather colorful language and the soft snores of Rumsfeld all reached your ears. Yawning, you began to stretch. Frozen mid stretch, your eyes shot open wide. Long limbs, no tail, fingers. _I have fingers!_ _I'm HUMAN!_ Scrambling out of the bed you almost landed on your face as you knocked Rumsfeld over. As he headed down the stairs, you made your way in to the bathroom. Taking in your reflection in the mirror you'd never been so happy to see your sleep mussed hair, tired eyes and generally disheveled appearance. Quickly pulling your hair up in a messy bun and brushing your teeth (because human or not, you had cat breath) you straightened the plaid flannel pants and black tank top you were wearing and made your way quietly down the stairs.

 

You weren't sure why you were slowly creeping down the stairs. Maybe it was because angels had messed with your head, a demon had kidnapped you, you died and then were turned into a cat. That combination in quick succession could certainly put a girl on edge, plus you weren't 100% certain what you were walking in to, and that was never good. Half way down the stairs you paused when two voices caught your attention.

 

"What if it's just part of the spell?" Sam mused.

 

"Gee, ya think?"

 

"Bobby, I'm just saying maybe we can't do anything to help her wake up. Just like we couldn't make her human faster." Sam tried to elaborate.

 

Dean's slightly muffled, but clearly irritated voiced traveled from the kitchen along with the clinking of beer bottles, "So what Sam? We're just gonna sit around with our thumbs up our asses and wait?"

 

"No, of course not. But we can't do anything for Hannah right now and we could be working the case…"

 

"You wanna go track down some damn ghost and leave Hannah like this fine! Go!" Dean was shouting at his baby brother from the kitchen.

 

"Dean," Sam started softly, "she wouldn't want us to sit around, doing nothing while people are getting killed. I'm going with or without you."

 

"Fine, Samm…" as he rounded the corner his words died on this lips. There you stood on the stairs, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over your chest listening to them argue. "Hannah!"

 

Pushing off the wall and quickly making your way down the last few steps, you wrapped yourself in Dean's waiting arms. Shock on his face, he pulled you in close as Sam and Bobby joined you both at the based of the stairs.

 

Pulling you from Dean's embrace, Bobby hugged you quickly and kissed your forehead, "Stop finding trouble, kid. You're gonna kill me before anythin' else!"

 

As you all headed back towards Bobby's desk, Sam pulled you into a side hug and kissed the top of your head, "Good to have you back, Hanny." the words were muffled against your scalp.

 

"It's nice to have hands again. And a voice." you turned, arms once again folded over your chest, to face the brothers, who suddenly both looked like sad little puppy dogs who didn't mean to be naughty.

 

Sam braved speaking first, "Look, Hanny,"

 

Cutting him off you began your tirade, "Don't you 'Hanny' me Samuel Winchester! You locked me in a bathroom!" turning to Dean, "And you locked me in the car! Even though you didn't even want me in your damn car! Like I'd ever hurt that car, Sam. Don't think I didn't hear all your stupid jokes about the whole deal, either! Cats have very, very good hearing! Why, why would you only give me tuna? I could have had regular food you know, and plain tuna, still in the can? Really guys? Also, there is nothing wrong with the amount of coffee I drink! I don't have a coffee consumption problem, so stop talking about it like I'm some addict!"

 

Both men stood before you trying to suppress the laughter threatening to bubble up as you ranted about how they had treated during your feline days. This only fueled your anger and while you had intended to keep the last bit to yourself, because hello, that might be awkward, out it spilled.

 

"Oh, and Sammy, yes. Rubbing my neck does always make me purr, it's kinda my kryptonite, so please for the love of all things good and holy, never ever do that again!" with a sideways look at Dean, you smirked and added, "Or I might not be able to keep my paws off you."

 

"Oh, ummm…. Sorry, Hannah." Sam turned a bright shade of pink as he turned to settle himself with his laptop on the far side of the room.

 

Dean gaped for a moment before he could speak, "Cat ears or not, there's no way you heard that one!"

 

"No, but I know you two well enough." heading to the coffee pot, you addressed the room, "How long have I been human?"

 

"Three days." Bobby stated as he continued to place books back on the shelf.

 

Stirring the creamer into your coffee and inhaling the intoxicating aroma, you hummed, "And you've all just ignored cases? Let people die? Because I was taking a supernaturally inspired nap?"

 

"Told ya!"

 

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean and Bobby barked in unison.

 

Sitting in a chair near the kitchen door sipping your coffee, your brow furrowed in concentration, "Sam, you said a haunting? Is it in Burkittsville, Indiana?"

 

"No, Seattle." the look on Sam's face was curious, "Maybe it's not a case we handled before? Like the witch."

 

Joining the conversation, Dean stood behind you with his hands rubbing your shoulders, "So, we've got two spooks. Who are they, Apple Pie?"

 

"I don't know. I don't know anything about Seattle and… and all I remember about the next case is that it's in Burkittsville and Sam wasn't there."

 

"Okay," Sam drew the word out as he thought, "I'll go take care of Seattle, just have to dig up some old doctor, and you two head to Indiana and get started. I'll meet you there."

 

"Okay, but I need a shower. I smell like a cat!"

 

"Why on earth would you smell like a cat, Apple Pie? It's not like you had a tail and fur four days ago." Dean quipped.

 

Turning to face him from the base of the stairs, "Claws too, Winchester. I'm a lot more dangerous without them." Without another wasted moment, you ran up the stairs and into your room.

 

As you collected clothes and made your way into the bathroom you tried to remember more about the case in Burkittsville. Nothing was coming to you except they had pie, Sam wasn't there and something about an ugly ass scarecrow. You didn't think it was a ghost, but maybe it was. Why couldn't you remember this case, you knew every fucking detail of every case. It was in there somewhere, if only you could remember where it was hidden in your thoroughly scrambled mind palace.

 

By the time you finished your shower and were dressed, you were feeling even less sure of what you remembered. Maybe the scarecrow just gave you the heebies and had nothing to do with the case. Did anyone actually have pie or was Dean just ranting about pie again? Why wasn't Sam there? The only thing you were sure of was that there was a case in Burkittsville.

 

Dean was throwing his bag into the trunk of the Impala as you walked up and dropped your own in before he slammed the trunk shut.

 

"Sam left for Seattle already, hope you don't mind he drove Lady. We should get going to Indiana." he said as he placed a kiss atop your head.

 

"Yeah." you muttered distractedly as you made your way to the passenger side of the beautiful classic car.

 

A few miles into the drive, you pulled John's hunting journal from the glove box and began thumbing through it. On your third run through of the hunting journal Dean cleared his throat trying to decide how to start whatever was on his mind.

 

"Out with it, Winchester." you demanded still slightly distracted by the journal in your hands.

 

"Well, by now you'd usually be telling me exactly how Sammy and I screwed up this hunt without you and how we're going to handle it this time. So, what's gives? You've never been this quiet in your life, apple pie." his tone was calm, slightly concerned and a bit suspicious.

 

"Dean," you started as you turned sideways in your seat, back against the door and left leg curled to your chest with your chin rested on your knee, "I have no idea what we're up against here. I know there's a case in Burkittsville. I remember Sam wasn't there, something about pie and an ugly scarecrow, but that's it."

 

"So, what? This wasn't part of what you remembered from…" he trailed off.

 

"No, it totally was. I just can't seem to remember it! I… I think, I think this is when Sam was going to met Meg, but he wasn't going to Seattle. I don't think he was anyway. I can't remember, Dean."

 

"You don't remember any of the stuff from the future?"

 

"I remember some. I remember your deal, Metatron, Ruby, the Men of Letters, Oz, vampires, Croatoan, the dream root, the shifter at Oktoberfest, the Horsemen, fairies, you and Sam going to another reality, several bits of time travel, facing Zeus, purgatory, Sam getting married and lots of people. But this one, it's just not there. I know it was before because I was thinking about places we needed to go and when we needed to be there. Burkittsville was something about the second week of April." you tried to explain.

 

"This is the second week of April." you hummed in response to Dean's observation, "Guess we better work fast then." He pressed his foot down on the accelerator as you pressed your head back against the window.

 

After several moments of tense silence, Dean spoke again, "Wait, Sam gets married?"

 

"Don't ask." you chuckled as you turned back to face forward, "We just need to keep an eye on him during Vegas week."


End file.
